


Miracle

by sunshine_locks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ...i just don't have the motivation to write it tbh, ...it just might take me a couple few centuries but it will be, F/M, and i will warn you accordingly, but yeah there might be some mature topics in here, ha lol i started this wip back in march, hope you enjoy the madness, i think it's a v cool idea, this will be finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshine_locks/pseuds/sunshine_locks
Summary: She was told it was a miracle, but it was more akin to a curse, if one looks at how much she lost.Or alternatively: What would happen if a wizard gave a muggle a blood transfusion?





	1. { it starts at the beginning }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter is a little clunky and little to fast. but eh.
> 
> A Series of Unfortunate Events belongs to Lemony Snicket, and Romeo and Juliet belongs to Shakespeare. The Hogwarts letter was from the Philosopher's Stone, chapter three, I believe.

 

 

* * *

both images: (c) kaylo ren @tda

* * *

_Today,_ Marissa thought blearily somewhere in the deep recesses of her consciousness,  _did not go as routinely as planned._

She had wanted to go meet up with her friends, as outside of school they were hard to meet up with. It was mostly a mix of ‘oh, I can’t make it’ to ‘I’m so sorry an emergency came up’, and it was frustrating. Marissa couldn’t be classed as an extrovert by any means, but she did have extreme bouts of loneliness if she didn’t see her friends every so often.

She had first met them when she was a mere five years old, just around when her parents had just moved from Mexico to Britain. Their meeting was not as tactful as ‘hi my name is’ and ‘oh it’s nice to meet you I’m’. It was more of paint fight, with splashes of colors going everywhere, not even missing an inch of the classroom Marissa had been in. By the end of the messy (albeit extremely fun) paint fight, the two girls approached her and one of them said boldly that they liked her, and that she was now their friend. Being rather new to the city—or rather the whole country—she accepted their hypothetical outstretched hand of friendship, not knowing anything else to do. The rest, as they say, was history. 

Marissa now liked them quite a bit, but it was hard to ever meet up with them, as she had previously said. The three of them lived quite far apart from each other, so playdates, as she liked to call them, had to be planned meticulously and carefully. 

Everything had gone as planned: she and her parents had woke up around the right time, and got ready in about an hour. They went out of the house (after locking it to prevent intruders) and then proceeded to drop off her little sister, Sonrisa, at a friend’s house, her parents citing that they wanted to at least walk and talk with her if not anytime else. Marissa was nothing short of flattered at that; at the time, her two year old little sister took up so much of her parents’ time that she had started to feel neglected. It was hard having a little sister seven years younger than you, and not three or four years younger.

All three had walked the route perfectly, and yet the day had still diverged from the plan. She was crossing the street that was close to the pastry shop where she was to meet with her two friends.

Marissa dutifully looked both ways, and not seeing any oncoming cars, she crossed. But she didn’t see the car that had so unexpectedly came into view, and not able to move out of the way in time, she was hit with the brunt of the sheer force of the car with a sickening crunch, considering the speed it was going in. Her body flew into the air and landed on the road with a dull thud that seemed to echo in every outsider’s ears. Her parents were much more fortunate—as in trying to push their daughter out of the way, they did not make it quickly enough. Well, fortunate for their bodies. They had retained minimal injuries. 

Marissa, on the other hand, was lying on the road without as so much as a twitch in her fingers, and she could hear the sharp wail of an ambulance quickly rushing her way to save her. It pounded in her head, and made her feel like her brain would bleed out of her ears. She wished repeatedly that it would stop. 

She didn’t remember much after that, as she had passed out from the loss of blood. 

And now she was lying in a hard, cold, and unwelcoming bed that lived in a teaching hospital Marissa vaguely remembered as being named  _London Grace._ Her major injuries had been or are being taken care of, but there was talk of surgeries to correct her internal damage. 

Doctors were talking soothingly to her parents, as their loud cries had dulled down into soft, almost inaudible, sobs and sniffles. 

Marissa could barely make out ‘found,’ ‘perfect,’ ‘blood match,’ and ‘donor.’ She could easily tell that it was good news, because firstly: it meant that she’d live, and secondly: her parents had burst into tears again, which Marissa had assumed were happy ones. She hoped.

After that, she’d found it extremely hard to find a grasp on the extremely thin threads of consciousness, and fell asleep into a mercifully calm slumber. 

When she was woken up, she was met with bloodshot eyes and tired faces of her parents hovering above her. 

Marissa was told that she was going to be meeting her donor, which she wasn’t sure had enough energy for. She was being kept on much life support, and even that only did so much for her. 

But she agreed nonetheless. 

In came a dark skinned man, with brown eyes as warm as melted amber. To her, they showed much compassion and caring, but also an ingrained tiredness, and she’d immediately decided that she liked him. He can’t be that bad if he’d be saving her life. He adorned the strangest clothing, a likely result of trying to fit in with the hustle and bustle of the crowds. The bright colors made sure that possibility was dead.

The man, she soon learned, was named Dean. He came in because he wanted to meet the person who he’d be donating blood to, and Marissa was touched. She hoped he thought she was still a good enough person to still save her by the end of it. 

It turned out that he had in fact followed through with his promise. 

A week—or perhaps it was a month, Marissa had lost the concept of time in her head—later, she was in post-ops, recovering. Marissa had never felt so energized before in her entirety of years she’d been alive. It was as if the blood flowing through her veins was not in fact blood, but just pure adrenaline. 

Marissa rather liked the new feeling it gave her, especially because it gave her more patience to deal with her little sister.

She went home not long later, having been deemed fit enough. 

Not much was different in her life after the accident. At least that was what she could say for the first month after being released. 

The months and years that came after just seemed to spiral downwards into a pit, depending on how one looked at it. 

The energy she had felt that had never worn off. It swayed with her emotions, and somehow made things happen that expressed these feelings. Or sometimes it would try to placate them, but this only happened with unpleasant emotions like annoyance or anger. It tried to get rid of the cause or make happen what would make the emotion ebb away. 

Like, for once, when she was trying to reach a book that was high up on a shelf. It was one of her favorites, _The Series of Unfortunate Events_ , and she wanted to reread them for a lack of something better to do. After having had trying many different maneuvers and tricks, nothing worked. One of them was just short of working, but instead of tipping the stack of books downwards to fall, it merely wobbled for a few tantalizing seconds and then steadied at its spot. 

Marissa became so angered for she had spent a good portion of an hour to the task, she nearly kicked a wall. Instead she just let out a scream of frustration, knowing it was a better way to let out her feelings, and that it would hurt significantly less. 

Not even a few seconds later, the books were perched comfily on her bed. This rendered her speechless, and the next few  _hours_ were spent trying to figure out how that happened. Was she hallucinating the whole time, and they were really on her bed and not on that obscenely tall shelf? 

As time went on, Marissa wrote it off as a fit of deliria or perhaps a frighteningly real hallucination of some sort. 

She didn’t like to think about it, because she hated the idea that she might even be a little unhinged. 

Another instance was when another girl was bullying one of her two friends so horribly; throwing insults at her, picking at her every physical flaw, commenting on her lack of having a  _normal_ family, and it made her angry to the tips of her fingers and to the ends of her every hair. So much so that she could almost  _see_ the energy become tangible and reach out its tendrils to wrap around the girl bullying her friend and throw her back on to the hard ground. 

The girl on the ground had immediately started crying, and Marissa couldn’t find it in herself to feel guilty for what happened. She knew for a definite fact that it was her that was the cause of her friend’s bully’s tears, but she still hadn’t figured out yet  _how._ She couldn’t be bothered to figure it out, not when one of her good friends was so distressed. 

It was an unspoken decision to never speak of this again between all three girls, the participants, and the audience, because it turned out that the girl told the teacher that she just took a hard fall. 

Marissa knew that the girl didn’t have to lie, but she was thankful anyways. 

An answer came years later in the form of a letter. 

It was long past the events of the car crash, when she was eighteen. 

She was in her room drawing mindlessly; the contours of her room, the blank faces of a person she once thought to be pretty, and the particles of dust that had made themselves visible through the rays of sunshine, which had given her room a sort of earthy but heavenly feeling. Feeling the rays of warm sunshine on your face was always a bit of an emotion that just reminded you of  _home,_ regardless of the person. 

She wanted to draw the feeling, so she was. 

When Marissa started to draw, everything dulled down to be a bit like tunnel vision. She could only focus on what was in front of her. So unsurprisingly, it was a while before she heard the incessant tapping at her window. 

Annoyed, she turned her head to see as to who it could be, because if she found it was one of her friends trying to make it all Romeo and Juliet by trying to throw pebbles at her window just because they don’t see—oh. It wasn’t quite her friend. Not even close, actually. It was more a Great Horned Owl looking her right in the face with its beady round eyes. Marissa couldn’t even begin to comprehend how the owl managed to radiate an aura of extreme annoyance. 

Marissa opened her window cautiously, but admittedly a bit curiously too. 

The owl immediately flew in, flying a few short rounds around her room before perching on the edge her bed. 

Marissa shrieked and ducked her head under her hands (her sister told her to shut up from the room she was in—how rude). When she felt like she wasn’t going to die by attack of an owl, she slowly lifted her head up. 

The owl was now looking, well, owlishly at her. It resorted to pecking at her hands, and for the life of her she could not figure out what the hell it wanted. 

When it finally gestured its head down toward its clawed feet, she finally got the message the owl was trying to send. 

The owl was holding a rolled up piece of—was that actual parchment? Marissa didn’t think that existed in this day and age anymore. That was curious. 

Marissa gently took the roll of parchment from the owl’s tight grip, and it flew off, out of the open window. 

She closed the window; she couldn’t imagine how many bugs had already gotten in. 

Turning her attention back to the letter, she took it in her hands and opened it carefully, so as to not rip it. 

Upon unfolding the letter, she saw the first sentence.

_Dear Ms. Vasquez,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Marissa reeled back in disbelief. 

What the hell even was  _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_? It sounded like, quite frankly, hogwash. The name itself rolled off the tongue as if it was a mishmash of words that a child put together, with a few ‘big girl’ words to make it sound smart. It seemed too unreal for it to be a true letter of acceptance. She figured that she would have been happier receiving an acceptance letter from Cambridge, or Oxford, since that was where she planned on going  _anyways_. 

Marissa read on. 

_Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours, Sincerely,_

**_Cho Chang_ **

**_Headmistress_ **

Curious about the list of necessary items and equipment, she looked behind the letter. She found a perfectly inked list and she read some of them. 

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk, Defensive Magical Theory rewritten by Hermione Granger-Weasley, co-written by Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley…_ and the list went on. The names bounced and swirled around in her head until it was all a mix of incoherent sentences and words. 

Marissa leaned back on her wooden bedpost and thought.

The letter in all honesty seemed to be sincere in its invite. But Marissa could not get that through her head, as the idea of magic even existing was unbelievable. Surely, if she went out and said that magic was real, she’d be classified as a certifiable nutter. 

Perhaps it was a prank. A well planned and elaborate prank, with much effort put into it. Was this by chance a prank letter from one of the boys from down the street? It seemed likely, given the fact that they took immense pleasure in calling her names, and on occasion,  _actually_ hassling her. 

Like an ‘ _ah-ha!_ ’moment, she suddenly remembered the one instance where she  _literally_ flung a girl off her feet and threw her onto her back. 

Doubt suddenly walked in to her mind, unwelcomed. 

She glanced warily at the letter as if it might spontaneously burst into flames or something of the like. Marissa reluctantly took the letter and reread it, thinking that it may have acquired some answers in the time she left it alone. After all, it was delivered by an owl, and delivered her this news. It wasn’t at all impossible for it to have changed the contents of the letter by itself. 

Nope. Not a sliver of belief. 

Shaking her head to rid herself of thoughts of the letter, she set it aside on her lampshade table to ponder on later.

Marissa resumed drawing.

* * *

There was a  _knock knock knock_ on the front door of her house. Assuming that it was telemarketer trying to advertise another one of their strange or useless products, Marissa stayed where she was and continued eating her English breakfast. Her parents glanced at the front door briefly and did the same.

Sonrisa was the only one of them who looked curiously at the door. She frowned and then asked her parents whether they were going to answer the door, to which her parents answered no.

But the knocking didn’t cease. It continued, and Marissa eventually got the point that the person behind the door was not just some useless advertisement from a telemarketer. She went up and opened the door. She was met with a strange woman wearing equally strange clothing.

Said strange woman sent her a practiced smile, tucking a strand of pin-straight hair behind her ear. “Hello. May I speak with Marissa Vasquez?” 

“This is she,” Marissa said warily, too aware of the person’s severe unfamiliarity to herself. 

“Well, hello then,” the woman said, her smile transforming into one with more genuineness, “you might have gotten a letter yesterday? And a rather strange one at that?”

_Oh, finally an explanation,_ Marissa sighed, relieved to herself. But another part of her was justifiably suspicious.   
  
“Yes, I did," Marissa answered, moving her body out of the way of the entrance, allowing the woman to come in.

“I’m terribly sorry, it seems that I forgot to introduce myself,” the woman said apologetically. “I’m Cho Chang.” 

“The headmistress of Hogwarts,” Marissa said plainly, as if to confirm the fact. 

“Yes,” Miss Chang said delightedly, “you recognized the name.” 

“I did,” Marissa replied with an assuring nod. 

Miss Chang stood in front of the door for a bit, before getting the sense to take off her shoes and move to the living room to ensconce herself in one of the sofa seats. 

Marissa followed and made sure that she didn’t do anything out of place; after all she was still a stranger to her home. 

“Why are you here?” Marissa asked curiously. 

“To explain the letter to you; it must have been a bit of a nasty shock when you received it,” Miss Chang said, smiling slightly at what seemed to be an inside joke. 

Marissa accepted this answer. “Go on.” 

“First things first: magic is real. It is essential that you know this,” Miss Chang said firmly. 

Marissa raised her hand to stop her. “It would probably be best to have my parents present as well.”   
  
“Of course,” Miss Chang said, nodding politely.   
  
Marissa made the short walk to the kitchen briskly. She called out, “Mama! Papa! There is someone here for us!” 

Sonrisa looked up hopefully. “Me too?”

Marissa shrugged neutrally. “Sure, I guess.”

Her parents were confused but they followed their daughter into the living room nonetheless, Sonrisa tagging along behind them. They immediately tensed at the sight of Miss Chang, but they ultimately trusted their daughter’s judgement. 

“Hello,” Miss Chang said, introducing herself once more to the parents and younger sister, “I’m Cho Chang. I was just about to get started on my explanation to Marissa. It’s great you could join us. So, yesterday, your daughter received a letter; a letter inviting her to join us at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” 

“Witchcraft and Wizardry?” Marissa’s Mama repeated, sounding just as skeptical as Marissa would have expected. Her Mama looked at Marissa accusatorily, and Marissa smiled sheepishly, as if to say ‘ _Sorry._ ’ No one could really fault her for not telling her parents; how could she when even she didn’t believe the letter in the first place?

“Yes,” Miss Chang said, nodding. “Magic is real. Your daughter here was given the gift of magic, and in order for her to get a better grasp of controlling it, it’s strongly recommended that she attend.” 

Sonrisa’s eyes twinkled merrily, clearly excited at the existence of magic.

Marissa became intrigued at this prospect as well. She could use a change of scenery from her droll neighborhood. The people were rather boring and uninteresting.

“And where is this Hogwarts?” Her Papa put a hand on Marissa’s shoulder guardedly as if to prevent her from going. 

Miss Chang hesitated for a split second, barely noticeable. She quickly regained her composure. “Scotland.” 

Sonrisa tugged at her Mama’s hand, looking up at her and saying, “That’s so cool,” but her Mama was having none of it. “Scotland! That’s very far away, especially for just a school!” 

“Well, not exactly. It’s a boarding school, with dormitories and uniforms and such provided. And for students such as Marissa who are late to mature, an introductory program can be arranged.”

Mama still seemed skeptical. “Late to mature?”

“Yes,” Miss Chang answered, directly looking at Marissa, observing her. Marissa looked anywhere but her. “As per wizarding tradition, your daughter should have gotten her letter at eleven. But some rare cases are documented where the magical abilities don’t develop as quickly as they should, and as a result, receive their letters later in their years. Marissa is one of those cases.” 

“Why do things like that happen?” Mama begrudgingly asked, her curiosity winning over. 

“We’re not really sure,” Miss Chang answered, “we just know that they do.” 

“It would be helpful to know,” Sonrisa chipped in, rather shyly. 

“It would be,” Miss Chang said, directing a welcoming smile towards Sonrisa, “but unfortunately I’m not in any position of power to persuade citizens of the Wizarding world to find out.” 

“That’s sad,” Marissa said, rather disappointed. She rather thought that that small piece of information wasn’t much to learn about the Wizarding world, but it said a lot for it. She’d love to take it by the neck and force it to learn, but alas, she was just one person. Besides, such a sudden change would shock the Wizarding world into a sort of paralysis. 

“Now back to track,” Mama said, hasty to learn more about where her daughter would go. “Will she be safe? Can you reassure us of that? It’s crucial that we know; the place you’ve mentioned already sounds crazy enough.” 

Miss Chang relaxed a bit. Now, that was something she could answer, and truthfully as well. Hogwarts was much safer than it was in the past few decades, a fact she was most certainly grateful for. “Yes, it is. Hogwarts will take care of your daughter very well.” 

Marissa’s Mama shared a glance with her Papa, and this seemed to set in stone their ultimate decision. 

“Well, all seems to be in ord—”

“No, it doesn’t!” Marissa quickly cut in, and both her parents gave her surprised looks, though Sonrisa seemed as if she knew exactly what was coming. Marissa let out a sort of breathy laugh, and explained, “Come on, Ma, I know this all seems very real, but we need proof, yeah?” Marissa turned her head towards Miss Chang. “Would you mind showing us a bit of magic? But nothing that could easily be a trick of the eyes.” 

Miss Chang nodded and smiled at her quick wit and observance.

She took out a thin piece of cherry wood from the inside of her robes, holding the wand by the end of it. She took a glass that was on the table to her side, and set it in front of her. With a few swishes of her wand, the glass transformed it into an ornate and detailed goblet, with a wide opening. 

Immediately, Sonrisa picked it up, scrutinizing the details.

Marissa couldn’t believe her eyes, and it definitely wasn’t a trick of the eyes, as she had specified. A glance to her right told her that her parents were just as gob smacked.

Marissa asked of her sister, “May I see it?” The goblet was dropped into her hands, and she examined it, marveling at the intricacy. It was tangible and real, and enough for her. She set it back down and nodded. 

“Okay. This looks really cool,” Marissa said, gesturing to the goblet. “Can you turn it back please?” 

Another few swishes and it was back. 

“Is that all you need?” Miss Chang questioned. 

Marissa nodded. “For now, this is fine. So will there be books I need to pick up from somewhere? Anywhere we need to go?” 

“Yes, there is a place called Diagon Alley. There you can find most of what you need.” 

Marissa’s parents were rather confused. “Er… Where do you suppose we can find that place, Diagon Alley?” Mama questioned. 

“Oh, well, I can take you there, and show you around,” Miss Chang offered, cocking her head to the side. 

“Um, yes, that would be great, if you don’t mind too terribly,” Marissa thanked, anxious at the prospect of visiting a place that literally sounded like the word ‘diagonally.’

“I don’t,” Miss Chang said pleasantly. She dusted off some seemingly invisible dust off of her robes and stood up briskly. “I’ll arrive here at an arranged time. Tomorrow at ten in the morning, perhaps?” 

“Of course,” Marissa’s parents both answered in sync. 

Miss Chang smiled politely, and said, “Well, it’s time I get going. Thank you for having me.” Then she did a little bow— _perhaps a cultural quirk?_ Marissa thought.  _The woman seems to be Chinese from her last name._

She saw herself out the door and closed it behind her with a soft click. 

Marissa blinked, unresponsive to her sister’s incessant questioning.  _Today has definitely been a long morning._


	2. { a brave new world not unlike fiction }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vv long chapter eh? don't expect it too often, i'm so lazy at writing lol

 

 

(c) callisto @tda

* * *

Marissa was justifiably nervous. After the morning’s proceedings, the first thing that came to her mind was that she had to inform her friends. She didn’t want them to think that she had fallen off the face of the earth for a year or three and then came back suddenly without preamble. That would get her a punch to the arm, maybe two. And then a thorough talking to, and possibly hands flying in the air, if they weren’t satisfied with the first two punches. Really, it would depend on their mood. Of course, they might not even notice, considering that they lived so far away, and didn’t see each other that often, but it would be nice to get a heads up.

So, she promptly asked her parents to visit them. They were caught off guard, but since nothing she asked was too out of line, they agreed. And luckily for Marissa, they lent their car to her since they had nowhere to be of particular importance. 

As soon as Leiko climbed into the car, she took this as her chance to bug Marissa as to what this was about, but Marissa was a brick wall. She wouldn’t budge until she had Chie. 

One long car ride later, she knocked on the door of Chie’s home, and once she got her parents’ permission (as if she would take _no_ for an answer), she dragged Chie inside of her car.

Finally, they reached a small corner café hidden away from London’s busy commuters and passers-by, and took a table that was far away from usual regulars of the café. It was a café that was hard to find but easy to love because of its relaxing atmosphere.   
  
The three girls sat down and ordered small drinks just for the sake of it; it would be unfair to the café if they had just come here for only the purpose of talking. Besides, nursing a warm drink kept still wandering hands. 

Leiko was the first to talk, as Chie was the quieter of the two, and preferred to look at Marissa curiously. The look of innocent curiosity was only made more prominent by the waves of pastel pink hair surrounding her face. Marissa often wondered why she dyed her hair when her parents were so abhorrent against her hair being any other color other than its natural shade.   
  
“So, what’s this about?” Leiko asked demandingly. “This was kind of unexpected.” 

Normally, Leiko would ask Marissa how things were at home, how her sister was doing, and other questions of a similar nature, but not this time it seemed. Marissa wasn’t given any buffer time, something that made her stutter over her answers.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Marissa said apologetically. “I’m sorry. It was just…” She thought over what she would say, but nothing came up. How do you tell your friends that you’ve been accepted into a magic school that has a name just as ridiculous as the concept of there even  _being_ a magic school?   
  
“Just what?” Leiko asked, her face morphing into one of impatience.   
  
“Calm down, calm down, let me think,” Marissa said, waving her hands dismissively.  
  
Thinking of no nice and neat way of saying it, Marissa said rather bluntly, “I’ve been accepted into a boarding school.”   
  
Their response was delayed. Leiko’s and Chie’s faces were blank for a moment before they turned into ones of cheer and happiness.   
  
Chie responded first, “That’s amazing, Marissa. Where is it?”   
  
“Far away in Scotland,” Marissa replied carefully, deeming the piece of information not too incriminating. She figured this kind of thing to be kept secret. Magic doesn’t seem to be commonplace in the world, or Marissa figured that magic would be much more casually used and wands would be twirled lazily as wizards walked. Even so, it would probably be better to ask before she told anything about magic to her friends.   
  
Chie frowned. “That’s so far away…”   
  
Leiko added on, “We already don’t see each other often, you want to add a whole country in between us?”   
  
Marissa averted her eyes from their stares, and mumbled quietly, “Sorry.”   
  
Chie jumped in, throwing a warning glance to Leiko, “No, no, it’s fine. Will you at least call us? Or texting’s fine too.”   
  
Marissa was thrown off her balance, not knowing whether phones would be allowed or not. She could almost kick herself for all the questions she forgot to ask Miss Chang, which were namely all of the important questions. There was so much she would ask and do if she could just go back in time for a few hours. Marissa did the next best thing, and speculated.   
  
The use of owls already told Marissa what she needed to know: Hogwarts was not caught up to the likenesses of the modern world. Why else would they use owls (other than to scare Marissa out of her skin) to send an acceptance letter? Of course, colleges and universities send their letter by post, or if they really wanted to, by email. Marissa could only assume that sending letters by owls was tradition, or it was the only way they had.   
  
“I’m not sure,” Marissa replied, tilting her head slightly. “Letters, maybe. I might do that. Don’t be afraid if an owl or two drops by your guys' house.”   
  
“Is there not any good cell phone reception there or…” Leiko questions, throwing a bemused glance to Chie.   
  
Marissa shook her head and looked up, and was met with Chie’s scrutinizing look. It looked as if Chie was trying to pry the truth out of her, and with its intensity, Marissa was just about ready to spill. Why was it always the quiet ones?   
  
“I’m sorry,” Marissa said. “I’ll literally go through hell to keep in touch with you two; after all, you girls are the only people who’ve stuck with me. Apparently, all of the others were too scared by me to befriend me.”   
  
Leiko cracked a smile, but Chie still wore the same scrutinizing stare, and Marissa squirmed underneath its intensity.   
  
“I need to drop by the bathroom,” Marissa said suddenly, giving Leiko and Chie a half-grin.   
  
Leiko nodded, and took a sip of her salted caramel coffee, and gestured with her hands to go. Chie turned her head to talk to Leiko, quietly so that Marissa couldn’t make out the words she was saying.  
  
Marissa asked the barista where their restrooms were, and went in. She turned on the tap, and let the water run over her hands, cooling her somewhat sweaty body.   
  
She sighed, and stood for a bit, thinking. Marissa absolutely hated lying to her friends like this, as it made her feel cheap.   
  
The unmistakable sound of the door to the bathroom opening brought Marissa out of her reverie, and she curiously turned her head to see who it was.   
  
And it was Chie. The one person she intended on escaping when she went to the bathroom followed her.   
  
Chie observed Marissa, although this time not with scrutiny but rather a sort of understanding. Or something like that. Marissa wasn’t sure.   
  
Chie walked to the sink next to hers and washed her hands the same as Marissa. A moment passed but then Chie broke the silence with a casual, “So.”   
  
“So,” Marissa responded, her tone wary.   
  
“I know where you’re going,” Chie stated bluntly, preferring to not mince words.   
  
If Marissa was supposed to feel her blood going cold, she didn’t. It was just slight nervousness, relief, and immediate suspicion. Marissa had to inexplicably wonder  _how_ Chie knew.   
  
“How?” Marissa questioned carefully. “Or rather where am I going?”   
  
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Chie said in hushed whisper.  
  
“Right,” Marissa said, a sort of dread setting still in her stomach. How hypocritical; she was scared her friends were keeping secrets from her when she was obviously doing the same.   
  
“Have you ever wondered about my last name?” Chie asked casually, her eyes focused steadily on the sink.   
  
Marissa thought about it for a second, and drew a blank. How could she forget her own friend’s last name? But it wasn’t uncommon for Marissa; she often had stupid moments where on occasion she forgot what day it was or even how old she was. It made for a funny little comment to tell her friends later on though.   
  
“I’m sorry, no,” Marissa replied. “It slipped my mind.”   
  
Chie grinned and quipped, “Typical.”   
  
Marissa gave out a short laugh and a half smile. Trust Chie to break the tension so easily. “Shut up, you.”   
  
Chie shook her head, still smiling. “Anyways, it’s Chang. Ring any bells?”   
  
Finally, it clicked. Marissa recalled that the headmistress’s last name was Chang.   
  
A moment later, Marissa said, “You’re related to Cho Chang?”   
  
Chie nodded. “That I am. I’m her niece. She’s got a brother and that brother is my dad.”   
  
“Then how come you’re not…” Marissa trailed off.   
  
“How come I don’t go to Hogwarts?” Chie asked sardonically.   
  
“Yeah, that,” Marissa said, giving a weak smile.   
  
“That’s not a long story at all,” Chie murmured, as if to herself. She said louder, “I was born a squib.”  
  
At Marissa's confused face, she went on to explain, “I wasn’t born with magic, so I never received a Hogwarts letter. I had written you off as a squib and I would have believed it to be true until today.”   
  
Marissa furrowed her brows. “That must mean at one point you must have thought I was a witch.”   
  
“Yes,” Chie said, “I did. You remember that day. When I was being bullied.”   
  
Marissa merely blinked. “I do.”   
  
“I thought for sure a few months later you’d be telling me that you were off to some boarding school. Is it bad that I was relieved that that day didn’t come?” Chie asked sadly. Bitterly.  
  
“No, no,” Marissa said, attempting to comfort her, “not at all. I understand.”   
  
“I wish.” Chie shut off the flow of water from the sink, and turned around to perch herself on the counter.   
  
Marissa stayed quiet for a moment before she asked, “What do we tell Leiko?”   
  
“That’s your choice,” Chie said, shrugging her shoulders in a show of neutrality. “Tell her the truth, or keep it from her. Either one would be the right choice.”   
  
“That’s helpful,” Marissa said sarcastically.   
  
Chie only smiled angelically in response.   
  
Marissa let out a breath of air. “I suppose I could tell her. I mean, she can keep a secret, and especially if it’s for me.”   
  
“That’s presumptive of you,” Chie commented, “but true anyways. I’d do the same I suppose.”   
  
“Thank you,” Marissa said gratefully, feeling a bit touched, but had to roll her eyes at the ‘being presumptive’ comment.   
  
Marissa finally walked out of the bathroom, ready to tell Leiko, and feeling much more confident than she was before. It was nice, to be able to sure of your actions beforehand instead of just half-assing them and doubting yourself every step of the way.   
  
“Hey,” Leiko said to them as they both took their seats, “you guys sure took your sweet time.”   
  
“Sorry,” Chie said, “we were talking.”   
  
“Without me? Bullshit,” Leiko scoffed.   
  
“Believe it or not, we can get along without you there,” Marissa said amusedly. “That has always been a thing.”   
  
“So. You’re going to boarding school,” Leiko said, straight to the point. “You’ve been avoiding telling me the school’s name. Why’s that?”   
  
“I just wasn’t sure if I was allowed to tell you,” Marissa explained, cursing Leiko's sharp mind. “But now, with the help of Chie—” she gestured to Chie “—I’ve figured out what to do now. Now, please don’t interrupt me until I’m done. Okay?”   
  
Leiko merely raised her eyebrows.   
  
“Okay? Like I need physical confirmation, say yes, nod your head or something,” Marissa stressed, leaning forward with her palms pressing into the table.   
  
Leiko rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, fine, yes.”   
  
“Okay, so, the school’s name is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and its way up in—”  
  
“Hold up, witchcraft and wizardry, what kind of bullshit name is—”  
  
“I literally just told you not to interrupt me, why would you do that after I literally—”   
  
“—that? Like for real, I need answers,” Leiko said, looking Marissa dead in the eye.   
  
“Wow, I wonder what it feels like—”  
  
“Literally answers now Maris—”  
  
“ _Wow,_ I wonder what it feels like to live in a world where you’re not interrupted a dozen times each sentence,” Marissa said loudly over Leiko.   
  
In the midst of all of this, Chie sipped her hot chocolate—in the middle of the summer,  _yes,_ no fucks were given—and her eyes volleyed between the two bickering girls, a fond smile pulling at her lips. It was not uncommon for the two girls to get into small, insignificant fights like these.    
  
“As I was saying,” Marissa said, throwing a disapproving look at Leiko, “the school is pretty far up in Scotland. And yes, despite the unbelievable name, it teaches students about magic, and how to control it.”   
  
“That sounds farfetched,” Leiko said skeptically. “How can you prove it?”   
  
At this, Marissa’s mind blanked. She really wasn’t sure how to prove it to her because she had no idea how to do magic without it causing some form of… chaos. Marissa’s mind suddenly flashed like a light bulb.   
  
“Do you remember that time when we were like ten, and I flung a girl onto the ground?”   
  
“No, I wasn’t there, but you told me the story,” Leiko informed her. “I know that you don’t know how you flung this girl so far away. Are you telling me that that was magic?”   
  
“I think so,” Marissa admitted. “But please, don’t tell anyone about this. I’m not sure what the policies are on divulging this kind of info.”   
  
“Of course,” Leiko agreed immediately, Marissa couldn’t help but smile at her loyalty to her. “I guess we can’t do anything about it except tell you good luck and give you our well wishes,” she sighed.   
  
“Yeah,” Marissa said, frowning. Although Marissa was initially nervous for this, having gotten this over with was a hefty weight off of her shoulders, and she had never been more grateful.   
  
“Sorry, about the…”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, no worries,” Marissa immediately said. Even without hearing Leiko’s words, she knew what she meant. Apologies had always been a point of difficulty for Leiko, and Marissa generally did not make her go through the process of painstakingly getting the words out unless she was feeling particularly hurt and petty.

* * *

Marissa was genuinely excited, once her anxiety wore off. The kind of excited kids were for something they’ve been looking forward for ages, and they can’t sleep because the jitters are keeping them awake. That kind of excited. She was eighteen years old, and yet, she had never felt like this, like a little kid, in such a long time. It was a refreshing feeling. 

It was only a day after Miss Chang had come to explain her Hogwarts letter, and today would be the day she goes shopping in Diagon Alley. Such a mundane and frankly boring task to do, but add in a new world, and it suddenly becomes the most exciting thing.   
  
Marissa glanced out the window every couple of seconds, almost jumped in the air when she saw Miss Chang outside, just about to ring the doorbell.   
  
Marissa made it to the door not one second after she had rung, and Miss Chang wore a surprised expression.   
  
“Excited are we?” Miss Chang asked, smirking slightly.   
  
“Apologies,” Marissa said, but not really meaning it. She couldn’t help it.   
  
“Its fine,” Miss Chang said, sending a smile to her. “Notify your parents, and let them know we’re going now. If they want to come, they can.”  
  
Marissa nodded, and quickly padded up the stairs to get her parents. They were in their room, but she knew that they were both ready. Sonrisa was already downstairs, just as excited as her. For someone who wasn’t going to Hogwarts, she was being a surprisingly good sport about it all.  
  
After bringing her parents down and informing Sonrisa of their departure, Miss Chang lead them to Charing Cross Road, where she seemingly went to a shop between the record shop and the book shop.   
  
In between was a pub, worn down and dirty, which confused Marissa.    
  
Why a pub specifically, and why one so dingy?   
  
Her questions were soon answered when they entered behind the pub, which is now known to Marissa as the Leaky Cauldron, where there was a small courtyard.   
  
Then, Miss Chang approached the brick wall blocking their way and did a strange pattern of knocking and moving bricks on the wall, where they suddenly moved out of the way.   
  
Beyond the brick wall was presumably Diagon Alley, the shopping center of Wizarding World.   
  
Marissa tried not to look like a little girl in a toy store, but it was so hard not to. She could imagine Sonrisa was the same, all wide-eyed wonder.  
  
There was just so much to look at: the way people dressed, the way shops filled with the clamor of families and their children, the way Diagon Alley seemed to buzz and thrum with life, unlike the barren nature of Charing Cross Road.   
  
Miss Chang didn’t turn around, but instead said, “First thing’s first: we’re going to  _Flourish and Blotts_  to get your books for schoolwork. In addition to getting the necessary books for your fifth year, we’re also going to be buying supplementary books that will teach the basics of years one through four.”   
  
As excited as Marissa was, she was bogged down by the idea of just how much she would be spending on these books. Of course money spent on books was money well spent, but still.   
  
“And if you’re worried about expenses, they are all covered by Hogwarts. The committee of teachers and governors understand that you’re entering school rather late, and buying so many books will be money added up.”   
  
Marissa blinked. That was a problem solved very fast. Not to mention, how did Miss Chang know she was worrying about it at all?   
  
Miss Chang led Marissa through the crowds of people, and some parted for her. She supposed being the headmaster of such a well-known school would make her famous, not to mention respected.   
  
Marissa looked behind her to check whether her parents and sister were still following her, and they were. Somehow they hadn’t gotten caught up in the crowds.   
  
Finally Miss Chang, Marissa, and her parents, approached a shop, with a rickety old sign adorning the faded and paint chipped words ‘Flourish and Blotts.’ They all entered, and Marissa was in awe of how much it was reminiscent of an old library, with the scent of old and new books alike. There were stairs to reach the higher up books, and ultimately resonated a feeling of being back in the twentieth century, where libraries were not so modern and much more traditional.   
  
Marissa felt inclined to part from the group, but she knew that she had to stay with Miss Chang. Sonrisa, however, did not feel the same, and bounded off to a close by bookshelf. She took note to keep an eye on her.  
  
Miss Chang walked up to the counter, and showed the clerk standing behind it a piece of paper. The clerk read it, and went behind a door, possibly where the stock was.   
  
The clerk brought out a satchel that had Marissa surprised; how could a satchel hold books five years’ worth of schooling?   
  
Miss Chang spun on her heels and was met with Marissa’s confused look.   
  
“You’re wondering how a satchel could hold so many books, yes?”   
  
Marissa wore a surprised look, and said a little wonderingly, “You always seem to know what I’m thinking. Might you be a mind reader?”   
  
Miss Chang laughed. “No, not at all—by the way, those mind readers you refer to are called ‘legilimens’. After meeting with many new muggleborn witches and wizards, I’ve sensed a pattern between all of them. Logic is a magic on its own.”   
  
Marissa smiled. “Right.”   
  
“Anyways, this satchel holds all of the books you’ll need in addition to supplementary ones. We can go to get your robes for school now.”   
  
Once her parents gathered Sonrisa from where she was by the bookshelf, they all walked to the clothes shop.

Once they arrived, they entered a rather dark shop names Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where a wizened witch was flitting around in a flustered manner. Marissa supposed she was busy tending to all of the other first years in need of robes in addition to her.   
  
Said wizened witch caught sight of her, as soon as she finished her business, she made her way over quickly and said haughtily, “You’re here for new robes, I presume?”   
  
Marissa wasn’t even granted a chance to answer as she was suddenly smacked in the face by the tail end of a faded yellow measuring tape. The tape, with a seeming life of its own, measured her, and when necessary, the haughty witch raised her arms for her, and occasionally took notes of her measurements.   
  
And just as quickly as she arrived, she left to a nearby rack of robes and uniforms and chose accordingly to Marissa’s measurements.   
  
The witch threw them into her arms, and commanded, “Try those on. They should fit you. The dressing rooms are over there in the back.”   
  
“Um,” Marissa said, looking down at the robes and uniform in her hands.  
  
But the witch had already, moved on to her sister, seeming to think that she was a student at Hogwarts as well.  
  
The sight of Sonrisa becoming an unusually shy and stuttering mess would have amused Marissa, but she instead looked around helplessly to Miss Chang, who gave her a weary smile, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry about Madam Malkin. She’s high-strung like this, as it’s a time of booming business. She hasn’t changed a bit even from when I was here. Anyways, the dressing rooms are over there.” She pointed in their direction.   
  
Marissa let out a slow sigh. “Thank you,” she breathed.   
  
Miss Chang simply smiled.   
  
She made her way to the dressing rooms, and took the nearest unoccupied one. She quickly undressed and wore the uniform and robes on top, as she saw the other tiny first years do. She looked in the mirror in front of her, examining herself.   
  
“Well, someone looks like a proper witch,” a pitched voice purred.   
  
Marissa’s face whitened, and took a few steps back.   
  
“Oh, don’t worry darling, it’s just me,” the voice purred again.   
  
“Who is ‘just me’?” Marissa questioned warily, her face still not rid of its pale coloring.    
  
“The mirror of course.”   
  
“Mirrors can talk?” Marissa asked incredulously.   
  
“Why of course darling, why wouldn’t I? Ah, well, you must me one of those muggleborns that often come around here. But you are a bit older than them… Anyways, it’s nice to meet you darling.”   
  
“Uh, well, it’s nice to meet you too,” Marissa greeted back, and changed out of her clothes and put her original outfit back on. She hastily made her way to where her group was.   
  
“All done?” Miss Chang questioned.   
  
“Yes,” Marissa said.   
  
“Well, let’s pay for them, now,” Miss Chang said, making her way to the counter.   
  
Was everything pre-ordered? Or was this for the fact that she was a new student? Possibly.   
  
“What’s next?” Marissa questioned.  
  
“Personally, my favorite part,” Miss Chang informed her, a happy smile taking over her face. “Getting your wand. The wand chooses the wizard based off of your traits.”   
  
“Sounds interesting. Like one of those personality quizzes except likely much more accurate,” Marissa commented.   
  
Miss Chang laughed softly. “Perhaps.”   
  
The wand shop was known as Ollivander’s, as she found out as she was entering the darkly lit shop. Honestly, what was it with wizards and their need to purposefully make themselves blind when they could perfectly have light with a simple swish of the wand?   
  
Unlike what the name of the shop suggested, Marissa was not met with an old wizard with centuries old knowledge of his profession, but rather with a young apprentice. Or what she assumed she was. 

The young witch made her way over to Marissa’s family, she went over to Sonrisa. “Hello,” she greeted, “I’m Francesca Longbottom. If I may lead you this way for your wand?”   
  
Sonrisa, not used to so much attention, turned her gaze to Marissa. “Um…”

Marissa stepped in, saying, “I’m so sorry, but I’m the one her for the wand, not her…”

Francesca jumped. “Oh! I apologize for my mistake. Well then, right this way.”

She went behind a counter, where many slender boxes stacked one on top of another resided. She took a long look at Marissa, a finger to her chin in thought.   
  
She promptly turned around and picked a box. 

“Vinewood, dragon heartstring,” Francesca murmured to herself, as she handed the wand to Marissa. “Just wave it around once.” 

Marissa did so as asked. Sparks flew, and a light flickered off violently as it fell to the floor. She jumped back, surprised, and Sonrisa grabbed Marissa’s arm in fright.  
  
“Okay, so not that,” Francesca said kindly, smiling. “Let’s try another.”   
  
And so, a variety of wands followed. Cherry, apple, aspen, blackthorn, etc. along with a variety of cores such as veela hairs, dittany stalk, kneazle whisker, and coral. 

Marissa was becoming disheartened as each wand rejected her, and it was easily seen to any person nearby that Francesca was becoming frustrated, not to mention flustered. It must be humiliating to go through so many wands on one person. 

Her parents thankfully placed a hand on each of her shoulders to give some semblance of comfort.   
  
And luckily for Marissa, Francesca had a sense of basic human decency, and did not let her emotions bleed into her actions.   
  
Finally a decent wand made its way into the mix, one made of acacia wood with a unicorn hair core.   
  
Marissa waved the wand around tiredly, but was met with a pleasant scent, and the light that had fell onto the ground as a result of the first wand had fixed itself back up.   
  
Marissa felt relief bleed through her veins, and thanked her lucky stars that this wand-chooses-the-wizard affair was over.   
  
Francesca let out a loud sigh, exclaiming, “Finally!”   
  
Marissa flushed, sorry to have caused Francesca so much trouble in one day. She escaped outside, shaking her arm of Sonrisa, and waited a little ways from the entrance of Ollivander’s.   
  
Her family followed, and Miss Chang came out right after.   
  
Miss Chang smiled sympathetically at Marissa, and decided she would give her a break. “Do you want to explore now?”

“We’re done?” Marissa asked, surprised. She didn’t think getting school supplies would be so easy, and done so quickly. She remembered with slight bitterness how stressful it was to gather what she needed from each teacher and then organizing everything according to subject. Not to mention labeling her supplies as well. And if a teacher had wanted it a certain way, she had to start all over again. 

It was frustrating business. 

“Yes. Other than to remind you to pack your things for Hogwarts, nothing else. All else should be provided to you as a general student,” Miss Chang said reassuringly. “It will be a while before you can come back here, so today is definitely your chance to check out any shops you find interesting. Unfortunately, anything you might want won’t be covered by the school so…”   
  
“So, we’ll just stick to window shopping,” Marissa suggested.   
  
“If that’s what you wish,” Miss Chang simply said. She looked behind Marissa to her parents. “You're fine with this?”   
  
Her Mama and Papa smiled, but only her Mama answered, “Of course.” Sonrisa gave an enthusiastic ‘yes.’  
  
“Well, then, lead the way.”

* * *

Marissa strolled through the streets absentmindedly, taking in the sights. She assumed that Miss Chang and her family was keeping up with her. 

Each and every shop stood out to her, but none like the one she stood in front of now. 

The color scheme of the shop emanated a warm feeling through her, as well a sense of listening to a bopping beat, or generally a happy jolliness.   
  
Marissa looked at the sign and saw it was named Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Anything with that much alliteration must have purposely done it for a chuckle from passers-by.   
  
She entered, walking in slowly, taking in what she could.   
  
The outside may have been warm colors, but the inside was a cacophony of them.   
  
She moved on into the aisles and looked closer at the boxes.   
  
One of them was labeled ‘Extendable Ears,’ and interested, she read the description on the back.   
  
_Have you ever found yourself in need of listening to a conversation (which you’re obviously not supposed to be listening to, naughty children you all are) but you don’t have anything to do it with? Say no more! Extendable Ears are here to save the day! Just take one end of the string and insert it into your ear, and the other end near where the conversation is happening! There! It’s that easy. It’s like its magic!_  
  
Marissa snorted. Everything about the description felt like a readable version of one of those life insurance ads you see on television, where the actors are absolute shit at acting, and comically calling for help: “ _Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”_  
  
They were the funniest, honestly. To this day, those ads still get a small chuckle out of Marissa. She went to show it to her sister, but stopped when from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a small, fluffy object.   
  
In any case, Marissa likely would have written it off as a ball to play with, but this was the Wizarding World, and nothing was ever normal here.   
  
So, she left the Extendable Ears back where they were and observed them.  
  
Suddenly, one of them shifted and she took a step back, but the pastel green fluff ball that had shifted jumped into her chest, and she caught the… thing with her arms.   
  
Marissa looked at the label next where all the fluff balls resided, and learned they were called Pygmy Puffs.   
  
Strange name.   
  
She looked down at the ball of fluff in her hands, the fluff ball looked back up with big black eyes.   
  
Slightly unnerved by the blackness of its eyes (it was like looking into the void, honestly), she put the poor thing back to where it was from. She may have thought the fluff ball to be cute, but she was in no position to buy it. Nor did she want it.   
  
So, off she goes to find the next interesting thing. Well, she would’ve, if she didn’t bump into a strange man with red hair and kind eyes.   
  
Frazzled, she said rather dumbly, “Oh, uh, hello.”   
  
The man chuckled. “Hello. I’m George Weasley. And you are?”   
  
She blinked. Weasley. “You must be the shop owner.”   
  
“Yes, but it could’ve been any Weasley you could have met. Three of my brothers are in the aisle right next you. Lucky guess, eh?” George said to her, chuckling once more. “Anyways, your name madam?”   
  
“Madam is too formal don’t you think?” Marissa wondered aloud. “I’m Marissa Vasquez.”   
  
George whistled. “That’s one hell of a last name. You’ve got all of the letters in it.”   
  
“It’s Spanish,” Marissa said, as if it offered an explanation.    
  
George hummed in response. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before? And believe me, even if you’d been here once, I’ll remember you. I know all my customers by heart.” He patted his chest where his heart was to emphasize his point.   
  
“Um, yeah, I’m new around these parts. Miss Chang was showing me around for school supplies,” Marissa explained, nodding her head towards the general direction of her family and Miss Chang.   
  
George glanced behind her. “Ah. I see, you must be a new student? Well then, welcome! I’m glad you chose to visit my shop then! You’re welcome here any time. I saw that you were checking out our Pygmy Puffs?”   
  
“I was,” Marissa affirmed, “but I don’t have money to buy it.”   
  
“Well, as a first customer I could give it to you for free,” George suggested happily.  
  
“Nor do I want it. The things are kind of creepy.”   
  
“That’s harsh man. They’re cute! They sell like hot cakes. I just had to restock them for the second time today.”   
  
“It’s just something about the big, all seeing, black eyes. I don’t like them.”  
  
“Understandable,” George said, nodding sympathetically.  
  
“Anyways, I think I’ll go and explore for a bit,” Marissa said to him, jabbing a thumb behind her, somewhat apologetic. “It was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you again?”   
  
“You might, if you get tangled up with one of my crazy children, or nieces,” George quipped dryly, a wry smile in place. As a second thought, he added, “Or nephews. Them too.”   
  
“You have so many?” Marissa said, eyes widening. “I’ve only a few cousins, most of whom I don’t even see unless I visit Mexico.”   
  
“Ah, that’s unlucky. My lot’s a crazy lot. If you meet them, you’ll be lucky to even have your sanity intact,” George said cheerily. “Good luck with that! I’ll see you… whenever.” He waved goodbye, and walked over to the next customer.   
  
Marissa reciprocated the gesture, and signaled for her family to come too, as they were in the middle of discussing some product or another. They looked like children, and Marissa could imagine that was how she looked too.   
  
As soon as she was out of the store, she went in the same direction as she did before and stopped in front of a store named ‘Quality Quidditch Supplies’. She was about to keep walking, but Sonrisa dragged her in, interested by the name of the store.  
  
They both entered as unsuspecting as ever when she saw a family of black haired and red haired people.   
  
It didn’t go unnoticed by Marissa that the family had some sort of regality around them, and they carried themselves elegantly, as if they were royalty.   
  
Marissa didn’t know whether they were snobbish and arrogant or legitimately wizarding royalty. Considering near everybody was sneaking glances at them, she was suspecting the latter.   
  
Marissa banished the thought out of her mind and took a look at what this particular store had to offer her. And from the looks of it, not much.   
  
She walked closer to one of the on display product and analyzed it.   
  
It was literally a broom.   
  
Marissa was expecting more.   
  
What could a bloody broom have to do anything magical?   
  
As always, she took a look at the little card stationed in front of it.   
  
_The Firebolt 3.0! New, and improved, as well as selling hot! This broom is agile, and is as quick as a snitch! You’ll be able to fly with ease, and land with ease too. Despite its thin illusion, it is very much sturdy, and could handle a few crashes with the Whomping Willow._  
  
Marissa snorted. How could words on a paper sound so arrogant? They were advertising for god’s sake, not trying to expel people away from it.   
  
She took a closer look, and saw that it really did look thin. This was supposed to carry a person—an actual human being—up into the air without them falling down?   
  
And from the looks of it, it looked like it was meant to be pretty damn fast.   
  
“What the fuck?” Marissa muttered to herself, a little loudly. And then glanced at Sonrisa, hoping she didn’t just hear her swear. She couldn't have it be her fault if she started swearing left and right. “It’s a bloody cleaning implement; this is supposed to be  _safe?_ I’m never getting on one of these.” She shook her head.   
  
She heard a small giggle to her right, and spun her head to see one of the black haired people from the so called ‘royal’ family.   
  
He glanced over to Marissa, and seeing that she had caught him laugh, he flushed. But instead of moving away, he moved closer to her.  
  
“They’re actually pretty solid, even if the advertising sounds a bit… sketchy,” he said in a soft, fruity kind of voice. The perfect voice to read someone a book aloud to.   
  
Now that she had a closer view of him, Marissa rather thought he was pretty cute. Black hair that she could easily run her hands through, and emerald eyes. He was a bit shorter than her, and that only added to his aura of innocence, for lack of a better word.   
  
“Really? Wouldn’t believe it until I see it,” Marissa replied.   
  
“Hmm, that’s too bad,” he said, still softly. “Um, hey, what’s your name?”   
  
“Marissa,” she replied, holding a hand out to him.   
  
He stared at for a mere second and took it.   
  
“Nice to meet you, I’m—”  
  
“AL! Come on, we’re leaving, James is done here!”   
  
A pretty redhead took Al by the arm and dragged him along. He looked helplessly behind him and when he didn’t move as quickly as the girl wanted to, she barked, “Get a move on!”   
  
The black haired boy sent an irked look and said to her, “Honestly, Lily, chill. Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? And stop holding my arm like that, it hurts.”   
  
“But we’re  _leaving._ ”   
  
“And you know I can get home fine by myself.”   
  
“I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight, if you’ve forgotten. Lord knows I can’t knowing what a right bastard you’ve been this whole summer.”   
  
“You know that’s not it at all, Lily, so stop calling it that.”   
  
Lily simply glowered at him, and sniffed. “Finish up then.”   
  
Marissa was uncomfortable watching the whole situation unwind, and slowly backed away. Those two obviously had something to work out, and she wouldn’t get involved in such a mess if she could help it.   
  
The boy now known as Al turned around and seemed surprised that she was backing away. His features resonated apology. “Er… I’m sorry. I haven’t made a very good impression on you have I? Anyways, as I was saying, I’m Al. It’s nice to meet you, and hopefully I’ll see you at school.” He sighed, and turned back to Lily, and gave her a dry smile. “Done.  _Now_ we can go.”   
  
Lily rolled her eyes. “Finally.”   
  
The two walked away together and they both disappeared out of Marissa’s sight as soon as the turned a corner at the end of an aisle.   
  
“Goodbye… to you too,” Marissa said weakly, half-heartedly moving her fingers in a way that could be classified loosely as a goodbye. Sonrisa looked curiously at them, and then said, “That was weird.”

“You can say that again,” Marissa muttered in response.  
  
She was definitely taking a nap as soon as she arrived home. The day had definitely seen too much. 


	3. { never stop smiling }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was already up on hpff for like two months i'm so sorry

 

 

 

(c) scintilla @tda

* * *

The rest of the summer was spent avidly reading the books she had gotten. They were certainly interesting to Marissa but, as textbooks were, they were also a chore. It seemed that it was a principle across all schools that textbooks should always make anything remotely interesting a bore to read about. 

That didn’t mean she didn’t read at least a little less than half the books she got from end to end, it just meant she found herself fucking around after every other page or so. She got what she wanted to done, just done painstakingly. She wasn’t really sure if it was worth it.

In between reading her books and procrastinating from reading her books, Marissa found herself waking up and readying herself up on the day she had to go to King’s Cross. 

The phrase ‘readying up’ was used loosely in this case. What it really meant was that she was scrubbing down her body in the shower and brushing her teeth and eating breakfast so fast she almost choked on it. Her sister laughed. Little minx.

While she may have the honor of calling herself a fastidious student, she was only able achieve such a name because she spent most school nights staying up until one o’clock in the morning studying, doing homework, or waiting too long to finish her homework. 

Hence, that was why she woke up exactly a half hour before she was to leave. 

But, like she said, four years of staying up—give or take—until one in the morning also meant waking up late too. So, after many mishaps and missing the bell a few too many times, she had her morning routine down to a science. 

She didn’t have to worry about packing her things, because she had done that the day before. 

And now, here she was, waiting outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet for her parents to get their things. Her sister came outside with her in excitement, and was chattering away about the wonders of magic, and Marissa was half-heartedly listening. She was much too excited as well.

For the first time in her life, she was impatient. The rush of being able to go to a new place without the pressure of having to go back home (not anytime soon anyway) had never worn off from the day she went to Diagon Alley. She’d be able to stay and observe and find new things all she wanted to. 

“Marissa, Sonrisa,” she heard her Papa say, “how long have you been waiting?” 

“Oh,” Marissa answered, a bright smile on her face, “maybe ten minutes?” 

“Oh dios mio,” her Mama said exasperatedly, although the effect was ruined by the fond smile playing on her lips.

She put her suitcase in the trunk and took her place in the back seat next to Sonrisa, making herself comfortable for the ride. 

Surroundings blurred past her, as did her thoughts. She just couldn’t stop thinking about Hogwarts and magic. How enchanting would it be, what would it look like? Would it be just like any normal school? Or would it accommodate magic, allowing it to run free?

Marissa’s leg shook frantically, needing away to let her excess energy out. It was just so fascinating, to see the world wizards made, to know what kind of culture they nurtured. She wondered if she’d get a chance to see it all.

Soon enough, her family arrived at King’s Cross, and Marissa climbed out of the car. She grabbed her suitcase from the back, and reluctantly waited for her family. It took every ounce of her effort to wait for them. 

Surmising that they had caught up with her (a quick glance behind her told her they had), she began her way towards the platforms, knowing that her ticket said Platform 9¾. 

When she arrived between platforms nine and ten, she was thoroughly confused. Not in an oh-I-don’t-get-this-I-can-come-back-to it kind of way, but in a holy-fuck-I-need-to-know-this-now-or-I’m-fucked kind of way. 

Staring intently in between the two platforms, she almost could have slapped herself. Of  _course_  it wasn’t going to be visible; the point was for it not to be. Witches and wizards had to be as innocuous as possible so they could hide themselves. 

But still, Marissa had no way of knowing what to do. 

She turned back around to face her parents, and gave them a questioning look, but they seemed to be just as confused. Sonrisa bounded between the two platforms, curious as to what was going on, but it wasn’t as if she had any answers to the solution. Well, maybe she did, but Marissa was too frazzled to ask. Honestly, at this point, Marissa was willing to throw all semblances of logic out the window, shrug her shoulders, and  _bloody_  walk towards what was in between platforms nine and ten. If she made a fool out of herself, so then be it. 

So she did. She stood in front of the pillar, leaning forward slowly. Finding that she was going through the pillar had surprised her so much she fell in. She tried to grab at a solid object, but to no avail. 

Marissa landed face first on to the ground. She quickly sat up, cradling her nose. It wasn’t bleeding thankfully, but it still hurt like hell. 

Her parents came right behind her, and helped her up and dusted her off—much against her weak protests. 

When she finally snapped her attention to where she was, her eyes immediately flitted to a red train in front of her, letting out steam, and emblazoned with  _The Hogwarts Express_.

Sonrisa’s gasp of amazement pretty much summed up Marissa’s emotions.

If that wasn’t an obvious hint that she was at the right place, she didn’t know what was. 

She made to get her suitcase from behind the pillar, but her parents had already pushed it along with them. Marissa threw her parents a thankful glance, moved out of the way of the pillar should anybody else enter in, and took this as her chance to take a better look at where she was. 

There were families there, some young and some old, and some parents were hugging their eleven year olds goodbye. Others were chastising their sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen year olds, likely to not get in trouble again this year. Apart from all the people that were there, there were also an abundance of cats and owls, and she could hear the throaty croaks of a few toads mixed in too. 

That was a strange pet choice if Marissa had ever heard of one. 

Apart from the people, there was a surfeit of diverse groups of people, some black, some Indian, and others Arab. There were many more, naturally, but Marissa’s attention couldn’t stay on them long enough to list them all. 

But her attention could definitely stay on the congregation of redheads, with blondes, browns, and black haired mixed in. 

The group seemed to have a space of its own, from the way people unconsciously made a wide berth for them. They stood out because they were the loudest, even above the hoots of owls, meows of cats and kittens alike, and the croaks of toads. 

Honing in on them, Marissa could easily make out that they were beautiful people. Not in an obvious way that people tend to define as attractive, but more pleasing to the eye. 

She grimaced and thought to herself,  _do they have Aphrodite’s favor or? Is genetics really friendly with them? Did they make a contract with the devil? What’s up? They look like the people that civilizations used fight fucking wars over._

Among them, Marissa spotted the boy she met in Quality Quidditch Supplies, chastely hugging both his Mama and Papa. She thought that it was nice, that he didn’t think he was too old for affection from his parents. 

Marissa doesn’t realize she has been staring at them for long past a minute until she was pushed along by her parents. 

The family of four stopped a little before they reach the entrance into the express. 

Marissa tightened her hold on the handle of her suitcase, for surely what was coming next are tearful goodbyes. 

Her Papa hugged Marissa bone-crushingly tight, almost that she couldn’t breathe. 

“Pa… Pa,” Marissa punched out as best as she could, “it… hurts.” 

Her Papa quickly let go in fear of hurting his daughter, and said to her in his mother tongue, “Good luck, sweetheart, and write to us.”

Marissa raised her eyebrows; it was not often her parents spoke in Spanish. They must have wanted this to stay a private moment.

“I will,” Marissa agreed, smiling amiably. She went to hug her mother, as she had made no move to. “Goodbye, Mama.” 

“Goodbye, sweetie,” her Mama told her. Unsurprisingly, it was her that was able to keep a strong and unwavering smile while her Papa became teary. It was just how they were. 

To Sonrisa she said, “Don’t get into too much trouble when I’m not there.”

Sonrisa gave a devilish grin, transforming her face into one that was so similar to her Papa’s, and said, “No promises.”

Rolling her eyes, she held her arms out, and Sonrisa jumped into them. “Don’t miss me too much!”

Marissa snorted, and let go of her sister. “That _I_ can promise.” Sonrisa gave an indignant shout, but kissed both of her cheeks, and Marissa did the same.

Turning around, she pulled her suitcase along with her, entering the train. She found an empty compartment almost immediately, which was the first one on her right. She supposed that students and children alike were being held back by parents who didn’t want to let them go right yet if they still had time.

She put her suitcase on the compartment on top specially made for them, and sat down. Immediately, she was bogged down by boredom, unexpected in a place thrumming with all sorts of excitement. 

Instead of sitting down and rummaging through her thoughts, she quickly decided to do something about it. She was on a magical express train;  _surely_ there would be things to do, obscure corners to explore.

Marissa exited the compartment, sliding the door behind her close. She quickly took note of unique details outside the compartment to note as markers so she can pick up her suitcase later, when they arrived at Hogwarts.  

The name of the school sent a jolt of electricity down her spine; she was  _finally_ getting to see the place she could only have dreamed of in her wildest fantasies! 

Smiling a little at the thought, Marissa walked as slowly as she was allowed down the aisle. She noticed that other students were walking down the aisle as well in clusters, and that the aisles themselves narrowed and widened as they needed to. 

What an infinitesimally small detail to pay attention to in a world full of bigger wonders, but it made all the difference. 

Too invested in marveling at the magic, Marissa was caught off guard as the train lurched forward to begin its journey to Hogwarts. 

This time, Marissa was able to catch herself before she fell on her back, and steadied herself. She let the train get into a consistent tempo before moving forward. 

Walking the length of the whole train, she explored compartments, and chatted with people that were friendly enough to start up a conversation. 

Marissa was able to discern a distinctness among witches and wizards that had grew up in the world, which was mostly a pretty similar attitude to those of a vastly different culture learning about Western culture, or any other culture, if different enough. 

Most students were curious about Marissa’s background, and those particularly invested into what they called ‘muggle culture’ asked questions easily answered. 

At first, Marissa had looked at them a bit strangely, as if they were ignorant. It had took more time than she could admit that this ignorance was a result of being so far separated from the muggle world. 

Then, it was a little easier to answer their questions. 

When she had finished walking up and down the aisles, she figured she might as well make her way down to her compartment and wait out the rest of the ride. 

Halfway back, Marissa had taken notice that a tiny old lady had also begun walking up and down the train, pushing along a cart that was filled to the brim with all sorts of candy. 

As the cart came closer to her, Marissa could catch a few names, like Drooble’s Blowing Gum, Fizzing Whizbees, and Chocolate Frogs. 

She almost drooled at the thought of food; she didn’t have much to eat for breakfast. 

Sadly, Marissa did not have any money (and even if she did, she didn’t exchange any pounds for what seemed like gold doubloons—wizard currency), so she reluctantly made to go back to her compartment. 

Well, she was, until the old trolley lady called to her. At least Marissa thinks she called to her, she didn’t really know who she was referring to when she said, “Hey, girl with the black hair!” There were at least three other girls with black hair that happened to be with Marissa. 

It was made much clearer to her when the old trolley lady said, “The one wearing a red shirt!” 

Marissa let out a sigh of relief and made her way to the trolley lady, who for the most part seemed pretty nice. Maybe. She was an old lady selling candy, what else was Marissa’s mind supposed to go to? 

Once she stood in front of the lady, she had said to Marissa, “Do you want any candy?” 

Marissa blinked. For whatever reason the maybe kind of maybe nice old trolley lady called her over, Marissa wasn’t expecting that. But maybe she should have, since kids buying candy off the cart might be her only way to gain profit. 

Marissa shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the money. Thank you for the offer though.” 

The lady stared at her, decidedly less nice, and Marissa felt violated, so she folded in a little on herself. She scrutinized Marissa to her feet to the last of her hairs. 

“Are you new here darling? I know all the students on this train except for the newcomers,” the nice trolley lady said, her scrutinizing stare softening into the way a grandmother might look at her grandchild. 

“Uh… yeah,” Marissa got out, more surprised by her curiosity. 

Everybody seemed to be curious about her, and Marissa could not for the life of her figure out why. Sure, she was a new student, but surely the excitement will wear off soon enough? 

“In that case here’s a chocolate frog, no payment needed. I know this all looks delicious and new to you,” she said, holding out an intricately bordered purple and yellow box, with the words ‘Chocolate Frog’ written on it in gold, curling font. 

Marissa smiled kind of shakily. Though the lady’s words had set off many warning alarms in her head (who offered  _free_ candy? only people who wanted to kidnap her, obviously), she felt a little bit like she was high. She was getting magical candy from an old magical trolley lady on a magical express that was taking her to a magical school. Her smile became genuine. All of this seemed surreal to her, like a fairytale dream out of a book. 

By the time Marissa got her words out, her wide smile grew into a bright beam. “Thank you, Miss…?” 

“Agnes, dear.” 

“Thank you, Miss Agnes.” Marissa smiled at her a bit longer, and sidestepped around Agnes to bound her way back to her compartment. 

Once she reached the compartment, she found that someone had taken to sitting there, and jumped back in surprise after she opened in the compartment door. 

The people who sat in compartment she claimed was none other than the Al she had met in Quality Quidditch Supplies, including a good half of the entourage of redheads, blondes, browns, and black haired people she found at the platform. 

Al met her eyes rather awkwardly, smiling in pleasant surprise. “Um, hey… Marissa.” 

Marissa smiled (albeit rather weakly at the prospect of meeting _so_ many people), and asked, “Hey, so I think I’m going to change into my uniform right now in those lavatories I found, but after that do you think I could sit with you guys? I kind of put my suitcase in this compartment when I first arrived, but I went off to explore the Express. I didn’t think anyone else would sit here.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment. But then a pretty blonde next to Al spoke, “Oh, so the suitcase was yours. We just thought someone lost it, but yeah sure you can sit with us.” 

“Oh, okay, thank you,” Marissa told them, smiling gratefully. 

She quickly grabbed her uniform from inside her suitcase, and just as quickly changed into it, if a bit haphazardly. Her plain black tie was crooked, but she made to fix it on the way back to the compartment. 

She found that the only empty seat was next to Al, and sat down. She grabbed one of the books she hadn’t finished, and started working to finish of the last of it. 

Of course, such a compartment with so many people could not keep quiet, so conversations filtered in and out of Marissa’s ears. 

She processed one of the conversations as she was reading, mostly because it was more interesting than the words in her book. 

“She’s really reading on the way to Hogwarts? What a nerd…” This voice was scratchy and low, presumably an attempt to keep Marissa from hearing. 

“Don’t be like that; maybe she’s new,” another one replied, distinctly female. 

“Yeah, but you’d think she’d at least try to make some friends…” 

No reply. Finally, Marissa looked up, and voiced to the crowd, “Something wrong?” 

The people of the compartment were decidedly quiet. Until one brave soul spoke up, the very same one that commented on her reading habits, “You’re reading. In a compartment full of people.” 

“I am,” Marissa said, shrugging. “I’m new here, everything’s interesting. But since you so desperately want to be my friend, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Marissa Vasquez.” 

The dark skinned boy blinked at her in surprise. “I’m Fred Weasley.” 

Marissa smiled in recognition. “Oh, like George Weasley!” 

“You… you know him?” he asked tentatively. 

“Oh, yeah! His shop in Diagon Alley was the first one I went into. Nice guy, I like him. He was pretty chill,” Marissa said cheerfully. “Are you his son?” 

“Yes, but that was a lucky guess,” Fred said easily, snapping himself out of his shyness. 

“George did mention having a lot of brothers, who all have kids. A lot of your cousins’ last names must be Weasley.” 

Fred scanned her warily. 

Not oblivious to the slight tension she had caused, Marissa became slightly nervous, and her voice raised on octave. “ _Anyways,_ why don’t you introduce yourselves?” 

And they did, one by one: the first was Dominique Weasley, who was sitting by Al, and Al properly introduced himself, whose full name was Albus Potter, and then Lily Potter, the girl who had been slightly rude to Al, then Hugo Weasley with matted mud brown hair, and last but not least Roxanne Weasley, who must’ve been Fred’s twin sister, considering the similarities in looks. 

Marissa nodded slowly, trying to process their names, and told them, “Cool. Nice to meet you all.” 

A discordant chorus of voices came: “You too.” 

Marissa nodded, and stayed quiet. The silence seemed to drag on, uncomfortable and choking, but Marissa made no move to break it. She merely looked out the passing scenery outside the window. Slowly, the family eased back into their normal conversations, accepting that Marissa would talk no more. 

Much too early—or perhaps just on time—the train slowed to a stop. 

Marissa finally looked up from her book, glad to finally have an excuse to stop reading. Her eyes were merely glancing over the words, not processing anything that was in the book. 

She grabbed her things after everybody else, awkwardly following because she didn’t know where else to go. She followed them until they reached a multitude of horseless carriages. Not coincidentally, Marissa joined the carriage with her previous compartment mates. 

The carriages began to move, making their way through the dark forest, and Marissa startled. How were they moving without any horses? 

Immediately, her first thought was ‘magic.’ 

It surprised Marissa how quickly magic was becoming the answer to oddities she was seeing. 

The carriage ride was not long, and a dimly lit castle was coming into her view. 

Marissa was awed, quite frankly. It was something out a fairytale, and she just  _knew_ her mouth was gaping wide open. 

Dominique, with a sardonic twist to her smile, asked, “New here?” 

Marissa directed her attention to her, and answered, “I thought you knew.” 

Dominique hummed. “There’s a lot of people I don’t know outside of my family.” 

“Well, yeah. I am,” Marissa confirmed. 

“The castle is very pretty isn’t it? Wait until you see the inside; it’s amazing,” Dominique told her, lighting up at the thought of her second old and worn home. 

“I’ll take your word for it.” Marissa smiled at her.

The carriages lurched to a stop, and students began to climb out, gravitating towards the friends they hadn’t gotten a chance to sit with. 

Marissa did the same, but stopped at the hand on her shoulder. She turned, and acknowledged Dominique questioningly. 

“Since you’re new, you probably need to be sorted. So go with the first years over there by the lake,” Dominique informed her, pointing to said first years. 

Marissa looked over to where she was pointing, and her eyes bugged out at the large figure next to the first years. In relation, the first years seemed like toddlers.

Dominique laughed. “I love seeing the reactions people have to Hagrid. Don’t worry, he’s a friendly giant.” 

Marissa nodded rather warily. This Hagrid could  _crush_ her neck with only one of his hands. Despite that, she still went to the lake, and climbed on the boats with the first years. 

The boat ride passed in quick fashion, and soon it was time to walk into the castle. 

Up close, Marissa could easily see the well-worn cracks on the walls, and how the vines seemed to curl in and out of them. 

Definitely something out a fairytale. 

She followed the tiny first years into a large hall, brightly lit with floating lanterns and candles, four differently colored long tables taking up most of the hall’s space. Up above, she could see the night sky, with stars dotted around, twinkling without abandon.

Marissa wondered what the castle does when it rained, as Scotland was famous for. 

She was brought out of her reverie when she caught the ending of the Headmistress Chang's sentence: "...now we will begin the sorting, but not after the song."

Marissa flicked her eyes to the stool, where an old hat began singing from a slit on its brim. 

She listened intently, and her interest was captured at the Slytherin's verse. 

_A house of ambition and fraternity? Hm._

Marissa smiled inwardly. Would the hat let her choose? 

The first name was called, and began the sorting. It went in alphabetical order, and finally, it was her turn. 

"Vasquez, Marissa!"

She startled a bit before getting up and walking towards the stool. Sitting down, she gingerly placed the hat on her head. 

" _Well, hello._ "

Marissa blinked. 

_Hello._

" _Let's see here... A lot of curiosity, here... Oh! Strange... very strange indeed. Hm._ "

Marissa frowned at that. What was the hat keeping from her?

". _..Nothing to worry about dear. You're very ambitious aren't you? Cambridge or Oxford? A hard worker too_...  _Is there a particular house you want to be in?_ "

Marissa thought carefully. She was in a completely new territory—a fascinating one nonetheless—but she needed to be careful. She was new. The people here weren't. They'd certainly look at her with interest or distrust. The latter was more likely. 

_I need the house that will make them trust me._

" _I'd chalk you up to Slytherin, with the way you worded that. Is that alright?_ "

Marissa stayed quiet, pondering it.

_Yes._

" _Well, alright._ SLYTHERIN!"

Marissa smiled strangely, and set the hat back on the stool. She walked to the table clad in green and silver. She could hear polite clapping coming from it, and a smattering of it from the other tables. Not nearly as loud as she would've gotten if she had been put in one of the other houses. 

She sat down at the edge of the table, the only seat closest to her that was unoccupied. Across from her sat a pale skinned, brown haired boy, and a dark skinned, dark haired girl. They were like the antitheses of each other. 

Marissa realized she had to introduce herself to them, and smiled politely. She held her hand out to them. 

"Hello, I'm Marissa Vasquez," she said. 

The dark haired boy blinked, and then sprung to life. He shook her hand firmly, and said, "Scorpius Malfoy."

Marissa shifted to the dark haired girl, and thrust her hand out again. "And you are?"

The girl regarded her warily, eying her hand as if horror struck. 

Scorpius patted the girl's shoulder, as if to coax her into shaking Marissa's hand. The look he gave her was undoubtedly fond, but also one of disappointment. He was frowning just slightly. The girl glanced at him, and she softened. 

Slowly, she took Marissa's hand and said, "Halley Zabini. I've got a twin brother sitting on the far end of the table, Darwin Zabini."

"That's cool," Marissa said. "You're named after Halley's Comet?"

Halley looked surprised. "You know?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Marissa replied enthusiastically. "Astronomy's one of my favorite subjects, second to astrophysics."

"Astro— _what?_ " Halley raised an eyebrow, at which Marissa felt she should be on the defensive. 

"Astrophysics. You know, using chemistry and physics to ascertain the properties and positions of stars and celestial bodies," Marissa said, after which she immediately felt like what she said was too complicated. 

Halley, to her credit, stated quiet for a minute and pondered Marissa's definition. Nodding slowly, she said, "That sounds interesting." 

Scorpius chose to comment, "That sounds like a lot of hard work."

"I will admit it's not for everybody."

Scorpius glanced at the front of the Great Hall. He put his index finger up to his lips. He whispered, "Chang's about to speak." 

Marissa quietened as Miss—no,  _Professor_  Chang—made her announcements for the school year, and then dismissed herself to allow her students to eat. 

An array of food appeared in front of Marissa, and she almost felt sick at the sight of so much food. Abruptly she was reminded of the feast she’d used to have with her extended family, and a warmth ran through her veins. The feeling dissipated and was replaced with disappointment when she realized that she was here alone and not with her family.

Sighing, she slowly filled her plate with what she wanted to try, and decided that she would have the German chocolate cake later for dessert.

Marissa ate slowly, but nearly everyone else was gorging themselves, even Scorpius and Halley, though they seemed to be much more dignified about it. 

Scorpius looked at her plate. "Not hungry?"

"No, it's just..." Marissa trailed off. Should she tell them about her worries? …No, probably not. "There's so much I couldn't possibly try everything." 

Scorpius nodded. "Understandable. Just wrap some food in a napkin, and save it for later.” 

“Good idea,” Marissa agreed. 

The din of the Great Hall eventually simmered down as prefects began to take first years to their rooms. 

Scorpius told her to follow him and Halley, as they were the prefects for the Slytherin house. 

They led Marissa and the rest of the first years down to the cold dungeons, where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was hidden.

Marissa took note of the password, let the first years in first, and then walked in herself. 

The common room she entered was cold, and the architecture had a sort of  _bite_ to it. The air pricked at Marissa’s skin incessantly, as if telling her she wasn’t welcome here, and yet there was a hearth crackling with fire, sending waves of warm heat to everyone within its radius. The ceilings were high and elegant, reminding Marissa of the old gothic churches of the thirteenth century, though there wasn’t any buttressing. The entirety of one wall was transparent stained glass, revealing the marine life underwater. She would definitely have to check out what kind of narratives where engraved in the glass later on.  

Marissa snapped herself out of her awe induced stupor, and finally tuned in onto the speeches of the prefects. She heard just enough to know that her dorm was on the left side, seventh floor up. 

After the Scorpius and Halley ended their speech, Marissa made her way up to her dorm room. She lightly trailed her hand on the wall, looking for her name on the plaque next to the dorm door. Marissa found hers, and was surprised to find that Halley Zabini was rooming with her.

Marissa entered, and found five beds in succession to each other, all with elaborate hangings to give girls their privacy, if they needed it. She went to the second bed on her left, hers for the year.

Marissa found that her suitcases were next to her bed. She flopped onto the bed ungracefully, and smiled into the sheets of the bed. 

She was finally here, finally here at the place she could consider her home for the next year. 

It felt as if she would never stop smiling, and she couldn’t ever remember a time where she felt so elated. 

It was a nice feeling, and Marissa reveled in it while she still could, because tomorrow started classes.


	4. { excitement is out, anxiety is in }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but on like, the other side, this one was posted on hpff only yesterday and you have TWO chapters to read yay you !!
> 
> also, the muggle art class that i'm simulating is ap art, and this is, like, college board's curriculum. due credit where credit is due, i guess.

 

(c) saturn @tda

* * *

Marissa woke up suddenly, her eyes shooting open. She checked the alarm clock blearily, rubbing her eyes, and saw that it was only a quarter till seven.

She almost began crying right then, because she had woken up out of the sweetest dream; something about meeting her idols. She couldn’t even remember it, only just bare threads of it. She tried to go back to sleep by making herself comfortable and warm in her blankets, but to no avail.

She was really no good at sleeping in a place so unfamiliar to her. Marissa had never been able to; any trip her family might have taken her to always end up with her being the slightest bit sleep deprived by the end, although she could appreciate the effort her parents put into exploring the world.

Marissa gave up and decided to get ready for the day. It wasn't as if it was a chore to get ready; she'd somewhat happily do it for today. Just not so early in the morning.

Walking to the door to what Marissa assumed were the dorm bathrooms, she opened the door and was met with a large washroom, with large showers off to her right.

The slightest bit awed at the elaborate architecture (still as sharp and cut like the day Hogwarts was built), Marissa brushed her teeth, staring at her reflection in the mirror all the while. She hoped it wouldn't talk to her again, but some small part of her wished it would simply so she could figure out the logic behind it.

After taking a shower (where she spent much too long figuring out what each knob was for), Marissa dressed in her uniform, where she noticed her tie now sported green and silver stripes.

Funny, she could’ve sworn that it was a plain black yesterday.

Marissa shook the thought out of her mind, grabbed her bag, and set off to the Great Hall, as best as she could from the directions she could remember.

As she reached the entrance doors, she tentatively peeked inside and brightened when she recognized the hall from yesterday’s sorting.

There were a few students scattered around, and more kept arriving by the minute. She walked over the Slytherin table, over to where Scorpius and Halley were.

Marissa knew that they weren’t friends—hell, not even acquaintances—but it was nice and comforting to sit with someone familiar in a place where she knew virtually nobody.

Sliding into the seat in front of the two, Marissa took a few slices of bread, butter, and a butter knife.

A second later, she greeted Scorpius and Halley hello.

Halley, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be getting better with her attitude towards her, but Marissa could appreciate the effort to hide her disdain, with an only slightly strained “Hello,” to her.

“Hello,” Scorpius greeted politely. “How was your morning?”

“Good,” Marissa replied, smiling. “And you?”

“Good as well,” Scorpius replied, biting into a piece of toast. “Would be better if classes didn’t start today.”

“Right,” Marissa said. Classes do start today, and now that the excitement wore off, the anxiety set in. She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing, and it would be pretty fucking embarrassing to mess up in class of students who were most often just looking for a good laugh.

Breakfast was spent amiably, as Scorpius and Halley were preoccupied with murmuring between themselves. Marissa was fine with that, she could enjoy a quiet breakfast. However, it was a little strange not eating with her parents and chatting about any news that might have come up. Or just talking with her sister, arguing about something trivial. She wondered whether her family felt the same.

A few minutes later, teachers were walking up and down the tables. If Marissa looked closer, she could see the teachers handing sheets of paper (parchment?). Were those their schedules? Not a minute later, someone tapped Marissa on her shoulder, and she turned curiously. She was met with the polite smile of Headmistress Chang.

“Good morning,” Marissa greeted genially, smiling.

“Hello, Marissa,” Professor Chang replied. “Mind if I take a seat?” she asked, gesturing to the general area next to Marissa.

Caught a little off guard, Marissa’s response was a little delayed. Finally, she jump started (literally) and scooted over to make room.

“Alright, so, since you’re new here, you have a few options as to what to do with your classes,” said Professor Chang, leaning forward a little towards Marissa so as to keep privacy. “You can begin with the bare essentials. You can take the mandatory classes beginning with your OWLs, otherwise known as your qualifying tests. Those tests will help determine whether you’re ready for NEWT level classes.”

Marissa nodded. “What are the mandatory classes?”

“Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic,” Professor Chang answered brusquely, eager to move on. “Your next option is to take a few elective classes as a trial run of sorts and see how like them. Your last option is to take the elective classes for the full year, though I wouldn’t recommend this.” Professor Chang fixed Marissa with a stern look.

Marissa rustled. Was that a stab at her intelligence? She couldn’t quite tell, but it wouldn’t be wise to pick a fight with the Headmistress. She was almost tempted to choose the last option, but she knew that she couldn’t make a full time commitment to classes she might not even like, or do well in. So, she responded, her voice steady, “I think I’ll go with the middle option. May I know which electives I may choose from?"

“Of course.” Professor Chang sorted through her stack of parchment, and picked the one underneath.

Marissa took the paper from Professor Chang’s hands, and looked it through thoroughly. A few minutes later, she knew what she wanted. “I think I’ll go with Muggle Art and Arithmancy.”

Professor Chang pursed her lips, and Marissa could almost tell what she was thinking, that she was hard working student, but that she might not be able to handle such a workload especially in subjects new to her. The temptation to choose the last option grew stronger.

“Well, I’ll add it to your schedule.” Professor Chang deftly picked out Marissa’s schedule and waved her wand over it wordlessly.  “Your professors will be notified of their temporary addition to their classes. Here you go. You will come to my office two weeks from now and tell me which classes you will keep or drop. You can have one of your peers show you where my office is.”

Marissa nodded, committing her schedule to memory.

As she was putting her schedule away in a safe space, Professor Chang left her seat at the Slytherin table, deeming her task to be done.

Once Marissa knew Professor Chang was far away, she turned to Scorpius and Halley, who were pretending as if they didn’t see that exchange. For what reason exactly, Marissa didn’t know. It wasn’t really that embarrassing.

“Hey,” Marissa cut into their conversation, “do you guys mind showing me where the Transfiguration classroom is?”

Scorpius was the first to reply, pausing his conversation with Halley. “Of course.”

“It happens to be right next to our first class of the day,” Halley added in helpfully. “Charms.”

“That works out perfectly,” Marissa said, pleased. “I have Charms after Transfiguration.” 

Scorpius glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s almost time to go class, so let’s leave now yeah?” He looked at Halley, and then Marissa, both of whom had nodded.  

* * *

She arrived at the Transfiguration classroom early enough; there were still empty seats all around and a few students scattered here and there. She tapped one of them the shoulder. They turned around, glanced at her tie, and then stared expectantly. 

“Is there a certain place I’m supposed to sit?” Marissa asked quietly, politely. 

Their expression turned sour.

Marissa didn’t quite know what kind of connection they had made with her and her tie, but it made significant difference to their previous disposition in comparison to now.

“In the back where you belong,” they muttered, looking away. 

Marissa frowned. She was rather unimpressed. Is this how she would be treated the rest of the year? “You still haven’t answered question.” 

They groaned. “No, there isn’t a seating chart, sit wherever the hell you want.”

“Thank you,” Marissa told them. Then quietly to herself, she murmured, “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

She took a seat somewhere in the middle, not too far away that she couldn’t see, but also allowing her to be out of the view of the teacher. God, she hated being called on to answer a question. With her luck, it was always a question she didn’t know the answer to.

Students filtered in and took their places, the din remained above the normal classroom level. It seemed everyone was high off the summer break they’d just had.

Marissa waited disinterestedly, tapping her fingers on the wooden desk.

The bell rung and professor didn’t introduce herself. Marissa figured it was because these students had already gotten to know the teacher for four years previous. She would just have to find out at the end of class.

The professor began in a no nonsense tone a speech about the importance of OWLs, which Marissa had already heard the short version of from Professor Chang.

After a five minute tirade about OWLs from the teacher, she finally began the lessons.

Marissa noted that the teacher liked to lecture, with a little bit of practice in between. She took notes as best as she could, and realized that a little less than half of what she wrote down was in her textbooks.

Transfiguration was a strange subject, so to say. Marissa could never believe that there was a whole branch dedicated to—what essentially was—changing one thing into another.

The end of class came about two hours later, and Marissa was already tired out. The professor taught frighteningly fast, and consistently brooked a tone that told everyone that she expected everyone to know what they were doing. Which was a little unreasonable, as not everybody could be a natural Transfiguration. Marissa could tell she certainly wouldn’t be.

Lingering behind a moment after everyone had left, she slung her bag over her shoulder, and approached the professor, who was now organizing the parchment on her desk.

“Hello,” Marissa said, shifting on her feet.

The professor looked up, and scrutinized her. “Good morning. I don’t believe I know you.”

Marissa laughed, but it came out shakier than anything. “Neither do I. I’m Marissa Vasquez. And you are?” She held out a hand.

The professor shook her hand firmly and said, “I’m Minerva McGonagall.”

Minerva. Like the Roman counterpart of Athena. Marissa supposed it fit her. Minerva the Goddess was a strict, no nonsense kind of person.

“Nice to meet you,” Marissa replied as politely as she could muster. “I just wanted to get to know your name that was all. I’ll see you next week, I suppose.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, face naturally stern. The sight of it had Marissa lowering her eyes and focusing on the window behind the teacher. “I’ll be seeing you then.”

Marissa nodded mutely, and walked out of the classroom. She realized that she still had fifteen minutes until the next class and she didn’t know what to do.

Scorpius and Halley had to have already left their Charms class, so Marissa was left to do whatever she wanted. Except, she really couldn’t. She could loiter awkwardly in the hallways or arrive to class exceptionally early.

The latter seemed more tempting. At least she would be seen as a ‘nerd’ rather than ‘awkward,’ even though most people seemed to think the two were synonymous.

The Charms class was only a few meters away, its entrance right next to the Transfiguration classroom. She entered and took a random seat. This class was a little different from Professor McGonagall’s class in that it had larger windows. The natural rays of light felt nice on her skin, and Marissa was surprised that the sun was even out today. Sunny days were a rare creature in Scotland.

The class soon filled up, and class began once again with the same ‘importance of OWLs’ speech.

Except this time, the professor did introduce himself. As Professor Flitwick. Marissa could’ve sworn that the diminutive professor made eye contact with her as he said this.

Marissa shook the thought out of her mind, and listened in on what the Professor was asking of his students now.

“Now, of course, the first two weeks will be a review of key spells from the previous four years, ones that’ll likely be on your exam,” Flitwick lectured in his squeaky voice. “Can anybody demonstrate the levitation spell?” He looked around the room, and stopped on Marissa. Oh dear.

“How about you, Miss Vasquez?” He asked, stopping at her desk to make a feather appear in front of her.

Marissa bit the inside of her cheek. He clearly knew that she was new, so why would he call on her? She knew the spell, a little bit, but she wasn’t sure if she could pull it off.

“Um,” Marissa said, hoping no one heard her. She brought her wand out, and tried to bring any memory of the movements and incantation to her. Then, she whispered, “Wingardium Leviosa,” with a swish of her wand, and the magic seemed to flow through her veins to the wand. It was a refreshing feeling. The feather floated up a foot or two.

Professor Flitwick smiled. “Good job, Miss Vasquez. Ten points to Slytherin.” He walked off (hobbled really) and continued to lecture the class, occasionally calling upon another student to demonstrate another spell.

Marissa slumped in her seat, her heart racing. She didn’t know how she did that, considering theory was far different in practice. But, she decided she should just thank her lucky stars rather than question them.

Soon enough, the class ended soon, and Marissa wasn't feeling as if she had just ran a marathon as she did when Transfiguration ended. That was an improvement, and Marissa had a sneaking feeling that Charms would either become her most hated class or the most loved one. It was hard to tell, really.

She had fifteen minutes to class to get to Muggle Arts, and her mood was lifted just thinking of it; anything she related to ‘relaxation’ automatically did.

It fell almost immediately when she realized she had no idea where the hell the Muggle Arts classroom was.

Marissa sighed. Her first week here was going to be a lot of stress wasn’t it?

She looked around, and she saw a boy with mud brown hair approaching near her, and Marissa took this as her chance.

“Um,” she said loudly, scaring herself and the boy walking past. He stopped, turning to look at her warily.

“Hugh?” Marissa asked, looking furtively at him from underneath her eyelashes.

“Hu _go_ ,” he corrected politely.

“Would you know where the Muggle Art classroom is? It’s my next class,” Marissa asked, a little more confident.

Hugo smiled. “Yeah, it’s my next class too. We can walk together.”

Marissa let out a relieved sigh, and walked along with him, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

“So, we met on the train right?”

“Yeah,” Marissa confirmed.

“You’re kind of new here,” Hugo commented. “Did you transfer from another school?”

“No, I only got my letter of acceptance into Hogwarts this summer.”

“Really?” Hugo raised his eyebrows. “That’s strange. You knew you were magic right?”

“No,” Marissa replied, shaking her head. “I mean I had strange incidents occur every now and then, but nothing that set me off until I had actually gotten the letter.”

“That’s really really weird. If you ever have a hard time with your classes, hit me up, I know a few people,” Hugo offered, tilting his head towards her.

Marissa smiled, a grateful edge to it. “Will do. What house are you in? Maybe I could ask you at your table.”

Hugo made a noise between a laugh and a snort. “Gryffindor, as you can see by my blindingly red and gold tie.”

Marissa blushed and averted her eyes. “Oh, right. Apologies.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

They both entered in a classroom, and Marissa looked around curiously. Instead of singular desks for one student, there were larger ones, where students could cluster around with people they’d spend their time with. There were also art supplies around the room, and Marissa could catch a small closet towards the back.

Marissa chose to sit with Hugo, as she was sure that she would know nobody else in this class.

The teacher was sitting upfront, and once class started, she introduced herself as Chastity Lawrence, also the Muggle Studies teacher here. She did not do the usual OWLs speech as everyone else; instead she told everyone that this class did not have any conventional qualifications to be taken. To replace that, everyone would create a ‘concentration’ where students would choose a certain theme and would create twelve pieces throughout the year relating to that theme, which would then be sent to a board to judges for the students’ grade to be determined.

As Marissa listened, she got the idea that this was indeed ‘muggle’ as it called itself. There was no magic involved. In fact, use of magic was strongly discouraged.

Huh.

“And now, after me rambling on for about half an hour,” Professor Lawrence said, smiling wryly, “you will get some newspaper print from the back and come up with sketches, or ideas for concentrations. If you want, you can come to me for help, or talk your peers. It’s why you’re seated this way. Now, move on!”

Everyone got up, and crowded around the newsprint. Marissa got up as well, but Hugo slapped her shoulder twice, and said, “I’ll get yours for you.”

Marissa sat back down, and nodded her thanks.

Once Hugo came back, she took her newspaper print, and got out her pencil. She was glad that she had brought her mechanical pencil with her, along with her supply of lead. She knew it would come in handy.

Marissa wrote down generic words. They usually were a good place to start, and often they wouldn’t allow one to work themselves into a corner when an idea has been overused.

She looked up, and saw, along with Hugo, two more people were seated at the table. One of them was shading in a drawing, her eyebrows scrunched, deep in concentration. The other was haphazardly drawing whatever he wanted. Hugo, on the other hand, was drawing lines purposefully, and rather than sitting down, he stood up, his knee resting on his seat. He tilted his head, and then he turned his paper into a completely different angle. Supposedly liking what he was seeing, he smiled contentedly, and righted the piece of paper back towards him.

Marissa finally looked back to her own paper, and wondered what exactly she could draw. She never really drew purposefully back at home; it was always something that came up suddenly, and she’d get an intense need to draw. Here, she had to churn out twelve pieces, or she might fail exams. The thought instilled a slight anxiety in her.

Looking through her list of words, she decided that ‘liminal spaces’ was her best bet. She was better at drawing landscapes better than she was people. Spaces were just more lenient, while with humans, there were certain rules and proportions to be followed that she just couldn’t do. One small distortion and the entire drawing seemed off.

Tentatively, she put down some solid lines, and let her instinct do all the working, her movements flowing. A minute or two later, she had found that she formed the outlines of the hallway of a distinct school. She wondered for a moment how she could make it fit the idea of liminal spaces, and then figured that she would probably have to let the colors do all the working for the feeling to pull off correctly.

Marissa began to shade the sketch in, but her attention was briefly caught by one of her classmates speaking up, “Hey, what do you think of this?” She looked up distractedly, and realized that he wasn’t speaking to her.

Instead, Hugo looked up, stared at the drawing thrust over his own, and replied, “It’s good. What are you going for?”

“Things in this world made abstract,” he replied off-handedly.

“It looks like an eye,” Hugo commented rather obviously. Marissa glanced at the drawing, and confirmed it indeed did look like an eye, however deformed it may have been.

“Yeah, I know, that’s the point,  _Hugo_ ,” he said, tone dripping with harmless laughter.

“Alright,  _Roman_ ,” Hugo mimicked, tone just as harmless.

Finally, Roman noticed the new addition to the table, and rather abruptly asked, “Who are you?”

Marissa made a distasteful face at him for his rudeness, but said anyways, “Marissa.”

Roman stared at her expectantly.

“What?” Marissa asked him, scanning him warily.

“Your last name?”

Marissa laughed. “Why would you need that?”

Roman looked vaguely uncomfortable.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Vasquez.”

“Vaisey,” Roman replied.

Marissa stared at him.

“ _My_  last name,” he explained.

“Right. Nice to meet you, I suppose,” Marissa told him.

Disregarding the niceties Marissa had offered him, he asked, “Are you new here?”

“Yup,” Marissa said, popping the ‘p’, having already been through the same song and dance with Hugo.

Instead, Roman just nodded, not going any further with his questioning. He looked back down to his drawing, and resumed sketching once more.

Marissa made a strange face at him. She really expected him to continue with his interrogation. Well, she could always write it off as Roman being a little out of it.

“Don’t mind him too much,” the girl at their table told Marissa. “He’s just a little weird.”

Roman perked up. “Hey, I’m not ‘a little weird.’ I am a lot weird. Stop speaking for me when I can do it perfectly fine myself.”

The girl let out a short and biting laugh, the noise reaching above the din. A few students looked at her in curiosity, but most just continued to do what they were doing. 

“Alright,” the girl replied, smirking, arm splayed loosely over the back of her chair. She looked over to Marissa, and held a loose hand out. “I’m Aishwarya.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marissa said, shaking her hand. “You already know my name.”

Aishwarya nodded. She was about to say something, but the bell cut her off. She smiled and shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way.

Marissa packed her things neatly back into her bag, folding the newspaper print carefully and sliding it into the pages of one of her textbooks.

She got up, waited for the students to leave, and then left herself. Muggle Art was luckily was the end of her day, and she couldn’t wait to relax in her bed.

But, alas, she was pulled back from her thoughts by a loud call of her name. She looked back, and saw Aishwarya gesturing for her to come back, with Roman and Hugo waiting casually behind her.

Curious, Marissa did.

Aishwarya took her in, seemingly sizing her up. “Come with us for a few minutes.”

Despite her instincts telling her no, Marissa nodded yes.

Aishwarya leaded the small group to a hidden corner, likely for privacy.

“So, you seem okay enough,” Aishwarya told her.

Marissa blinked. “Okay?”

“There’s going to be a party, and I want you to come with me,” Aishwarya told her bluntly.

At this, both Hugo and Roman snickered, and Aishwarya sent them an irked look.

Marissa shook her head. “I’m sorry, parties really aren’t for me.”

“Oh.” Aishwarya frowned.

“Why not?” Hugo asked, staring Marissa down curiously.

“I don’t know, I’ve never felt comfortable there.” Marissa shrugged carelessly.

Dismayed by the lack of attention, Aishwarya took the reins of the conversation once again. “You should still come, though. Hogwarts parties are a strange thing on their own. Maybe you’ll have fun."

The latter part of Aishwarya’s sentence caught Marissa’s attention. How strange could they really be? Hogwarts still inhabited the same humans that lived in the muggle world, and anybody could tell that both populations had their fair share of party animals.

Marissa thought it over, and her curiosity won her over. She wouldn’t have to stay that long, did she?

“I guess,” Marissa agreed grudgingly. “But I can leave whenever I want to.”

“Great!” Aishwarya took Marissa’s free hand in both of hers, and realizing what she did, she let go immediately. “It’s going to be on the seventh floor in the Room of Requirement.”

Marissa felt bad for being so needy, really, but where was—

“Hugo can show you the way,” Aishwarya added, nodding in his direction.

Hugo raised an eyebrow. “I am?”

“You are,” Aishwarya told him decisively.

Hugo shrugged. He turned to Marissa and told her, “I’ll tell you when the party is, okay? And then I’ll pick you up.”

Marissa nodded.

“Alright then. That was all I really needed to talk about! I’ll see you in art next week!” And with that, Aishwarya bounded off the other way, Hugo and Roman breaking off from her to go into another hallway.

Marissa turned to walk away dazedly. That entire interaction felt as if she had been experiencing it from the inside of a glass fishbowl. The thought of anyone asking her out was unfathomable (even in rather loose terms), and Marissa knew that it would be leaving her mind very soon. She couldn't handle very well the idea of someone actually liking her, and, not to mention, what could a person glean of her character in the half hour that they'd met her? Not much, likely. 

Making into her chilly common room, she ran up to her dorm, and fell face down onto her bed. She can worry about everything tomorrow.


	5. { the calm before the storm }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, at least this chapter was only three weeks late. also, since HPFF is shutting down, i'm going to try to be more active on my other writing accounts. another thing! go back to the previous chapter and look at all the cool graphics people made me! i finally figured out how to add images to my stories!
> 
> The italicized lyrics are from the song That’s My Girl by Fifth Harmony. Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi. Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan. A Series of Unfortunate Events belongs to Lemony Snicket. Grey’s Anatomy belongs to Shonda Rhimes and ABC. Brooklyn Nine Nine is Dan Goor’s and Michael Schur's.

 

 

(c) wildest dreams. @tda

* * *

Marissa was cold. That was the first thought that came to mind standing in this literal hellscape students here call the outside of the Slytherin common room. Truly, would it have taken much to make the dungeons a little bit warmer? She understood that Slytherin had a reputation to upkeep, one that had to be cold and unforgiving, but in all honesty, that was already fulfilled by the students that had resided in this house.  
  
The second thought consisted of wondering where the hell Hugo was. Marissa had been waiting for a while now, and she had not dressed for the chilliness, having had opted for a short sleeved t-shirt and skinny jeans.  
  
Marissa kept waiting, tapping her foot impatiently. She was sleepy as hell. Normally she wouldn’t go to bed as early as ten, but today was a particularly draining day. Even if she wasn’t tired, she had made a promise to keep, and it wouldn’t do her well to break it. Maybe. Who knows?  
  
Her eye was caught by a shadowy figure stumbling closer to her. Alarmed, her hand went to the handle to the entrance of the common room.  
  
“Marissa,” Hugo gasped, bending over to catch his breath.  
  
Relaxing her grip on the door handle, she cautiously asked, “Are you okay?”  
  
Hugo didn’t answer immediately, and waited long enough to answer to make Marissa wonder whether he had even heard her.  
  
“Yeah,” he finally answered, snapping his spine straight, “Just got a little bit lost.”  
  
“Never been here before?” Marissa questioned curiously.  
  
“No, not really,” Hugo said. “I’ve never had a reason to.”  
  
“Oh. Really? In all these years you’ve been here? Actually, what year are you?”  
  
“Oh, you don’t know? I’m a fifth year,” Hugo said laughing. It seemed that he was very much a smiley boy, a rarity in a generation frequently known for its eternal sleepiness. Marissa wasn’t the person to ask to break that stereotype.  
  
“Right.”  
  
As they walked along, Hugo talked and talked. Hugo was a chatterbox, carrying the conversation even when Marissa had nothing to say. In this regard, Marissa was grateful for Hugo because she wasn’t much of a talkative person, hence why she was a bit nervous going to this party. Marissa hoped that Aishwarya wasn’t the type of person to invite a person to a party, and then immediately abandon them when they arrive. Aishwarya was free to do anything she wanted to, though Marissa still willed with her to stay with her for at least five minutes.  
  
Finally, she cut across Hugo with, “So what is this Room of Requirement?”  
  
“Huh? Oh, it’s exactly what it is. A room that turns into what you require at the moment.”  
  
That was really cool. Into what exactly could it turn into? Were there limits as to what it could manifest into reality? The brain had infinitely many ideas, so the question was could the Room of Requirement could meet all of the standards? Marissa couldn’t imagine the Room turning into the void if one really desired it, but magic did have an uncanny ability to make the impossible possible.  
  
As they arrived closer and closer to the Room, a portrait became distinct, with a person looking down on them haughtily. The person raised an eyebrow and asked, “Password?”  
  
Marissa jumped. Alarmed, she turned to Hugo. “There are talking  _portraits_? Why did no one ever tell me this?”  
  
Hugo laughed again. “I don’t think you’d ever encounter one, to be honest. The Slytherin common room uses something like moving tiles on a wall, doesn’t it? Gryffindor uses a portrait to protect the common room. Ravenclaw uses an eagle knocker. And Hufflepuff uses its barrels, where the students tap out a tune, or something like that.”  
  
“Wow,” Marissa breathed. “Why can’t we make anything like that in art? Or at least learn the magic to make it possible?”  
  
“It’s called Muggle arts,” Hugo reasoned, “I don’t think it was ever going to teach us anything like that. Besides portrait artists in the Wizarding world aren’t paid very well, and for someone to even commission one is even rarer.”  
  
“That’s...” Marissa frowned. “That’s sad.”  
  
Hugo shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter to me either way. I’m not going into the arts.”  
  
Marissa’s frown deepened. That was a rather indifferent stance, and possibly the worst one to take as well.  
  
The portrait groaned loudly. “Will you two please tell the password or get going?”  
  
Marissa jumped again. Despite the physical evidence in front of her, it was quite hard to believe that these portraits could speak, have some sense of emotion, and have a consciousness. She was taught from a very young age what the six signs of life were, and what constituted a biotic and abiotic factor. An inanimate object  _definitely_  was not on the list of biotic factors. To go against the very science she had ingrained into her mind had created an uncomfortable cognitive dissonance.  
  
“Gregarious grindylows,” Hugo said confidently, and the portrait swung open. Nothing seemed to be out of sorts, and there didn’t actually seem to be a party going on. Marissa wondered whether Hugo was out of his mind.  
  
But then they entered, and her ears were subjected to booming music, making it seem as if her surroundings were actually pulsing along to the beat. Surprisingly enough, she recognized this song. Marissa looked around as best she could, though the noise made it seem as if her vision was impaired—even when there truly was no correlation between the two.  
  
It was actually a lot different from what a muggle party would be, but these differences weren’t highlighted by magic. First of all, the students of Hogwarts had somehow procured a large stash of alcohol (much more than the average muggle party) as well as a young bartender that seemed to be underage. How they knew how to mix drinks was beyond Marissa. There was a dance floor off to the side that was lit under luminous light, and the space surrounding it was darker, and more intimate somehow. The only slight quirk that she had noticed were the lanterns that were floating lazily about without any tether.  
  
It was very much a club hidden inside of a school, and it was difficult for Marissa to understand how the teachers weren’t alerted to it right away; the music was the first obvious sign. But she wasn’t going to be the one to tell the teachers; there were many illegal things going on that she couldn’t count them on her fingers, and she didn’t want to get involved in that.  
  
The students here really knew how to throw a party, but that didn’t discredit the fact that now Marissa had no idea what she was going to do.  
  
She looked to Hugo helplessly, but he didn’t seem to notice. He said offhandedly to her, “Hey, I think I’ll find Roman. You’ll be alright, right?”  
  
Marissa tried to answer, but Hugo had already threaded himself into the crowd, and became a part of the mass of moving bodies. Well, shit. If it wasn’t going to be Aishwarya, it would have been Hugo.  
  
She supposed she now has to find Aishwarya, as she was the one who invited her. Where would Marissa even find her? This place was far too big.  
  
She groaned; this party was  _so_  not worth it. She might as well go to the bar and take advantage of the fact that was of drinking age.  
  
Once she reached the bar, she was met with an array of shot glasses, each filled with a brightly colored liquid. She picked up one of the shiny silver ones, scrutinized it, and said fuck it. Marissa drank it all in one go, and she immediately recoiled.  
  
_Damn_ , that was sour as hell. Eventually the feeling faded into a sweeter one, and suddenly she felt like she was walking on air. Was that normal?  
  
Marissa put the empty shot glass down, and asked for a glass of water. That feeling may have been sweet, but added with the already alternate realm like party setting, it wasn’t exactly the best combination. It just felt as if she was walking back and forth between two completely different realities.  
  
Nursing the glass of water, she stared at a spot on the counter, willing her spinning vision to come back to normal. She looked at the rows of shot glasses; it probably wasn’t a good idea to take another shot if she didn’t fully know the after effects of all of them. These ones seemed to be magic infused, taking drunkenness to the next level.  
  
Sitting there, she was subjected to the presence of many different kinds of people: the person who just took drink after drink without caring what it was, the sullen ones who drank their troubles away, or people like Marissa, who didn’t know what the hell they were drinking, and preferred not to.  
  
She quickly found out that Dominique was the very first kind, as she was downing drink after drink.  
  
Marissa stared on, sure her expression turning into one of sheer confusion. She wondered idly whether Dominique was okay.  
  
Finally, after staring blatantly, Dominique noticed her presence.  
  
“Marissa!” Dominique shrieked. It was one hell of a voice she had. “I didn’t think you’d come!” She threw her arms around Marissa in a loose hug.  
  
She was stiff in her arms. “Er, I don’t think you invited me?”  
  
Dominique seemed to have not heard. “How are you? How was your first week? Stressful? Exciting? Loved it? Hated it?” Her arms gesticulated wildly as she spoke.  
  
She was going much too fast for Marissa to answer; her head was spinning.  
  
“Sit down,” Marissa said, raising her voice. “Then we’ll talk, yeah?”  
  
Dominique nodded wildly, and sat down.  
  
Marissa asked the bartender for a glass of water, and set it down in front of Dominique. “Drink some water.”  
  
Dominique seemed reluctant to do so, but she eventually downed it quickly like any other shot she had. The glass refilled itself.  
  
“I meant slowly,” Marissa added on, now putting an arm around her, attempting to soothe her. It was now that she noticed that Dominique was holding something in between her fingers. It looked like something vaguely resembling a cigarette, but she couldn’t quite tell. Warily, she asked, “Hey, what’s that?”  
  
Dominique’s head snapped up to meet Marissa’s eyes. “What’s what?” She looked down to her hands. “Oh, this! It’s nothing.”  
  
Marissa was torn between pressing her, and leaving her alone. She was tempted to leave Dominique alone so as to not to push her buttons, but this seemed too important to let go of so easily.  
  
She swallowed. “I don’t believe you.”  
  
Dominique laughed, but the sound was forced and shaky. “I said don’t worry!” She drank another glass of water. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go back out there. Don’t wait up!” She hopped off the bar stool, and flounced off to somewhere in the crowd.  
  
Marissa watched as she went away. Dominique was gone as fast as she came, and she shook her head. She was tempted to follow her, but she wasn’t really up to date what the protocol was for these kinds of situations. Honest to god, she didn’t even think that these kinds of things even happened because, hey, this completely new place wasn’t  _totally_  infested with teenagers. She only knew what to do for specific situations with certain people because she knew from the inside out what they needed.  
  
Instead of deciding to sit here all night and get roped into her thoughts, she decided she would go back to the dorms and get some sleep, as it was almost nearing one o’clock in the morning. This party costed more than what it was worth to her, and not to mention she had classes tomorrow. This party couldn’t have waited?  
  
She walked over to where she first saw the entrance, but was halted by crashing rather hard into another body.  
  
Marissa froze, eyes wide, apologies already spilling from her mouth. “Oh my god, are you okay?” She put her hand out for the other person to grab, and she recognized the face easily now. It was Al.  
  
He gave a small smile, gaze somewhere else, and said, “No, you’re fine.” Finally focusing on her, recognition clicked in his mind. “Oh! Marissa, hey. I didn’t think you’d be here.”  
  
“I didn’t think you'd be here either,” Marissa replied in turn. Did she really look like the person who wouldn’t attend parties? She could be a talkative person occasionally, and did go to the odd party here and there, like this one. Which she was leaving in the present moment, but that doesn’t matter.  
  
“Really?” he asked her. “I like parties. They're kind of fun. But I'm getting kind of tired, so I decided it was time to ditch. Also, Dominique left me, and she was the one who invited me.” He shrugged indifferently.  
  
Marissa laughed. “That’s what my friend did,” she said. “Guess we’re just a pair of awkward idiots.”  
  
“Yeah,” he said, smiling at her, “guess we are.”  
  
A silence passed over them, and it was not of the peaceful kind. Marissa felt uncomfortable and she wanted to break it, but she wasn’t sure with what.  
  
She needn’t have worried because Al did it for her. Bouncing on the heels of his feet, he looked around and asked. “Actually, do you wanna hang out somewhere else? The lights are giving me a headache.”  
  
“Yeah,” Marissa said, relieved. They walked out of the entrance, leaving behind the echoes of “... _ain’t nothing, ain’t nothing, put your heart and your soul into it...”_  
  
As they walked through the corridor, what little light from the lanterns and windows made the shadows longer.  
  
“Shit,” Marissa murmured. She moved closer to Al, as the smallest movement made her mind go into overdrive. To break the silence, she said quietly, “So, what house are you in?”  
  
“Hmm? Oh, Hufflepuff,” Al said absentmindedly.  
  
“That’s nice. What house is it for? I forgot what the Sorting Hat said about them.”  
  
Al snorted, and said, “Oh, you know, hardworking, loyal, friendly... Stuff like that. Nobody really likes us, though we’re probably the nicest of the whole lot.”  
  
“That sucks.” It seemed that when she was around Al, her vocabulary shrunk down significantly, and she wished she could actually hold an intelligent conversation with him.  
  
“So where are we going now? The Hufflepuff common rooms?” Marissa asked. She realized that she didn’t really want to go back to the dungeons, they were much too dark and cold for her.  
  
“Sure, if you want to,” Al replied. He led them down a couple of floors and corridors, until finally they reached a small alcove with a few barrels surrounding the entrance. He tapped out a jaunty tune, and the door creaked open.  
  
Marissa covertly checked for any people that may have been hiding in the dark. She turned, and followed Al in, and was not met with yellow and black, but was met with earth. That was the only way to describe it. Underneath her feet, there was soil shifting and crunching, and the occasional flower bud poked out. The common room was filled with large windows, presumably to let sunlight filter in, and there were many, many plants taking up space. Walking up to one, she saw there were small cards, changing to say who had watered it last and at what time.  
  
Marissa bounded over to the squashy yellow couch, worn and torn, and sat down on it, bouncing a little. Patting it, she looked up to Al, the largest grin on her face. “I love your common room.”  
  
Al grinned as well, sitting down next to her. “I do too. It’s a wonderful place to be.”  
  
Marissa startled as something jumped into her lap, and saw that it was a white cat. It flicked its tail once, and curled up in her lap comfortably. She began to pet it, and it began purring.  
  
“Oh, who’s this?” Marissa cooed, scratching behind the cat’s ear.  
  
“Artemis,” Al said, picking him up and holding him close to his chest, “my cat. I don’t know what he’s doing out here.”  
  
“Artemis, huh?” Considering what the cat looked like (white fur, blue eyes), Marissa had a fairly good idea who (or rather what) it was referencing.  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Like Sailor Moon?”  
  
Al flushed, and buried his face in his cat. Which probably wasn’t a good idea, as he’d get a mouthful of cat fur. “Maybe... I didn’t really think anyone would get it.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I? I love Sailor Moon! It was my childhood! I think I fell in love with Sailor Venus and Sailor Mars. Hell, I think I fell in love with all of them.” It was true. Everything about that show screamed nostalgia for her, and it was especially captivating for her as she was a young girl in love with space and the universe when she discovered it.  
  
“I think I liked Sailor Jupiter a lot. She was exactly like me, you know, tough, but a sweetie. Okay, maybe not tough, but I’d like to think I have some sense of kindness,” Al rambled. “Not to mention, like as a show, it was incredibly clever. I didn’t know this at the time, but there was a hell lotta Greek mythology.”  
  
“There was! I’m kinda glad that they left out the bad parts though, there was a shit ton that I’d rather have not known back then.”  
  
“Like Hera?”  
  
“Ugh. Her exactly. Except I may be little biased, the Percy Jackson series kind of increased my hate for her.”  
  
“Percy Jackson?” Al asked, confused.  
  
Marissa gasped and took Al’s hands in hers. “Have you not read Percy Jackson?”  
  
Al began to answer, though she didn’t let him in her excitement. “I have the whole damn series, and you’re going to read it all!”  
  
Al laughed nervously, though not out of fear. “Wow, okay... What other books do you like?”  
  
“Not much else there is, really,” Marissa told him, shrugging. Percy Jackson was pretty much the only series that she had truly fallen in love with, except for perhaps A Series of Unfortunate Events. She used to love reading, but she had lost her touch for it after one too many school assignments of having to read Charlotte Bronte, Emily Bronte, Margaret Atwood and other authors that had written classical American literature. “I do like a lot of other shows though. I’ve long since stopped watching anime, but that’s because school took up more of my time. I really like Brooklyn Nine Nine and Grey’s Anatomy.”  
  
“I figured you would. A lot of people like those shows these days. I tried watching Grey’s but I get too queasy. I could never be a surgeon,” Al informed her, distractedly placing a hand on her thigh. Marissa glanced down, and then back up at him. “Brooklyn Nine Nine is a gem, however, and I wish it would never end.”  
  
“Yeah—” Marissa was cut off by the entrance door opening, letting a few students to trip and tumble in. She turned her head by instinct, and then frowned.  
  
Looking back to Al, she asked, “What time is it?”  
  
“We came here around twelve thirty, so maybe around one thirty to two?” Al answered, the sentence coming out as a question.  
  
“I think maybe I should get back,” Marissa said regretfully, frown deepening. “We’ve still got classes tomorrow.”  
  
A smile graced Al’s face, though this one seemed amused. “Suit yourself. Want me to walk you back?”  
  
Marissa hesitated in her answer. The Slytherin dorms weren’t that far from here, were they? She could probably make the distance. “No… no, I think I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Al murmured to her, his cat moving to his lap, "You're welcome."   
  
She got up, and trudged to the entrance, looking back to wave a short goodbye. Al met it with an echo of, “Good night."


	6. { not something anyone could control }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: I really do use the warnings on this story to a very high extent here. There are explicit descriptions (or what could be counted as) of drug addiction and at least one panic attack. It should be noted that everything in this chapter is intentional.
> 
> I have done my absolute best to research drug addiction and use the research correctly, but there may be some aspects that I have portrayed incorrectly. If that is the case, if you know, please tell me what I did wrong and I will fix it. As for the panic attack, I do have experience with them. 
> 
> Thank you.

Marissa poked around her omelet. It was shredded and yellow and unappealing. She scrunched up her nose and pushed her plate of food away.

There was still half an hour until class right? She could probably spare some time to lay her head down. She was tired as fuck, and she found it incredibly hard to get up out of bed today. It was not a day for socializing.

This morning, Scorpius had sat down on the other side of the table with Darwin Zabini, and surprisingly enough, Halley had sat down next to her, even if she chose to converse with some girl whose name she found out was Soleil Rowle. She vaguely registered the conversation with tired ears, but mostly she zoned out.

Marissa closed her eyes for a bit, but it seemed only a second later that she was shaken awake by Halley.

She jumped, her vision blurry. She rubbed her eyes.

A hand placed itself on her shoulder, and from behind her came: “Come on, it’s time to go to class.”

Haphazardly, she took her things and allowed herself to be pushed along by Halley.

“Wait, wait, where are we going?” Marissa asked suddenly, realizing that Halley didn’t know what class she was going to.

“Potions,” Halley answered, walking on. “Are you okay?”

Marissa looked weirdly at Halley. It wasn’t like her to ask people about their well-being, especially if they were not in her close circle of friends. “Just fine.”

“Okay,” Halley said disbelievingly. “But the bags under your eyes though say otherwise.”

Marissa shook her head, and told her to leave it be.

She entered the Potions classroom and was met with a musty smell. She was overtaken with the need to cough but suppressed the need for the sake of not bringing any attention to herself.

Everything about the Potions room was just had a feeling of being dirty. It looked like it needed a good dusting up, and the assertion was reinforced by the fact that there were cobwebs taking up space in obscure corners of the walls and desks. There was a putrid smell that was ever-present in the air like a thick smog, and Marissa assumed it was because of the potion ingredients, and the potions that were made in previous classes. It wasn't exactly the most welcoming smell to be subjected to the first time she entered the class.

Marissa inhaled and exhaled, and took a seat in front of Halley and Scorpius, dropping her bag next to her on the floor. She took her notes and textbooks out.

She felt unsettled, and she couldn’t stop shaking her leg. It didn’t exactly bode well for her.

The only times she’d ever felt this way was when she was at a traffic infested intersection, though she had made sure of the fact she’d never encounter another intersection again if she could help it.

It wasn’t as if she felt this way the whole week she’d been here, it was just today. Perhaps she was homesick. Or maybe it was that one drink she’d had yesterday, but it couldn’t have done that much damage, could it?

Marissa sighed, and banished the thought from her mind.

The professor began a spiel about Doxy shells (an ingredient which she learned from her textbook; reading beforehand had its occasional perks), which went on for the first half of the class.

Tuning out the professor, she propped her head up on her chin and let her gaze wander the room. She knew for a fact that Scorpius and Halley were behind her, diligently taking notes, unlike her. Well, she was trying, but they probably weren't half as good as theirs.

Most everyone else seemed dazed, or whispering among themselves or giggling about something they’d heard this morning. She noticed that Al was doodling absentmindedly. He sat right underneath where the sunshine from windows hit the most. It seemed like a nice place to take a nap under.

“...And now, the whole lot of you will pair up, making a housecleaning potion, as you know that is the primary purpose of Doxy shells...”

Marissa snapped out of her thoughts.

And then it clicked what exactly the professor had tasked the class with, and she struggled to hold back a groan. Partner work made her want to rip her hair out, the many mishaps of her previous partners having had forgotten to do their share of the work, or simply refusing to do their work having had worn her out. She was done with people using her because she was thought to be smartest in the class, or whatever the fuck people used to justify themselves. The most angering thing was that she did the work regardless because she couldn't risk her grade going down.

Someone tapped her shoulder, and Marissa turned her head curiously. It was Al, smiling sheepishly.

“Heya,” Marissa greeted, mood rising slightly. “What’s up?”

“Can I be your partner?” he asked. “There’s unfortunately no one here for me except you.” He nodded his head back to gesture to the class.

“Yeah,” she said, moving her stuff out of the way to make room for him. She supposed the fact her stuff was spread out over into the next seat might have warded away any potential partners. After all, most people chose their partners to be the person seated next to them.

“I’ll go get our ingredients. Can you get the cauldron?” Al asked, beginning to walk around the table to dart off to the cabinets beyond the professor's desk.

Marissa observed where everyone else was getting their cauldrons, and went there. Some of them seemed to have names on them, so she sought out Al’s. She hauled it back to their seats, setting it steadily on the table.

Digging out her Potions textbook from underneath the clutter, she opened to the potion she was making. She read over what they needed to do, and while doing so, she heard Al set down the ingredients.

She tapped her fingers on the table, a little clueless. It was glaringly obvious that she didn’t know how to make a potion.

Al waved his wand in a deliberate pattern, and a few seconds later, water began to flow out from the wand into the cauldron.

Considering Marissa was standing around looking like an idiot, doing nothing, perhaps it was better that this project was partner based.

Al noticed, unfortunately for her. “You good?”

“No, not really,” Marissa said in a hushed whisper. “I’ve got no idea how to make a potion.”

“Oh.” Al looked at her, a little helplessly.

“Sorry.” She shrugged, averting her eyes.

“No, it’s fine. Well, you begin with a base of water. Potions is mostly a subject of remembering stuff, like what ingredients look like, and what their properties are when they’re alone, and what they’re like with different things. A bit like chemistry.”

“Chemistry.” Marissa stared at him, awed.

“I mean, tell me I’m wrong? I guess like baking then.”

“No, no, it’s more of a surprise that you even know what chemistry is.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that dumb.” Al handed her something similar to a vanilla bean. “Can you cut the bean open, and then crush the pods with the flat side of the knife? Anyways, why did you think I don’t know what Chemistry is?”

She grabbed a knife and did as she told, trying to stall a little. She didn’t want to offend him, but she also wasn’t in the habit of lying to people. “Well, it’s just from the people I’ve talked to, most don’t know what it is, unless they’re muggleborns.”

“Oh, that would make sense. But I would bet that they wouldn’t know much about it either, since they came here when they were eleven. Well, unless they study it outside of Hogwarts.” He stirred the potion clockwise, once, twice, thrice. “What subjects did you take when you were in school?”

“Chemistry, for one. I took Calculus. Psychology,” she answered. “I’ve got enough credits to go to college at least. I haven’t applied for any colleges yet. I’m on my gap year.”

Al hummed. “Why haven’t you applied to any colleges yet?”

Marissa shrugged. “School really tired me out. I want to be on my best when I go to college.”

“Right. Can you mix the pods into the potion, and then crush the indigo?”

Indigo, Marissa knew very well. She took it from Al’s side, and dragged over the pestle and mortar.

“Why would you come here then? If it’s your gap year, aren’t you supposed to be relaxing? Y’know,  _not_  go to school?” Al asked curiously.

“And give up the chance to go to Hogwarts? Experience magic? I’d be doing myself a disservice.”

Al gave out something of a laugh. “Sometimes I forget how shiny the Wizarding World looks from the outside. How _gilded_ it is.”

Marissa sensed something like bitterness in his words, but she wasn’t sure why it was there. She was tempted to ask, but she had to focus on the task at hand. Once she finished, she put it in the cauldron, sure that she knew what step Al was on. Al didn’t protest, so she assumed she was correct.

A little suddenly, Al jerked. Marissa was caught off guard, scared that she put the indigo in at the wrong time.

“Sorry, sorry,” Al said, tone apologetic. “Can you keep stirring the potion clockwise? I need to get something I forgot. I’m at stir thirty-three, and this potion needs at least sixty.”

Marissa nodded, taking her wand from her bag. She moved over to Al’s seat, putting her wand into the potion, counting.

She watched as smoke wafted from the cauldron, color changing from an electrifying turquoise to a soft lilac. She was mesmerized by the smoke as it formed vague and unintelligible shapes, and by the swirls lazily moving about in the potion.

“...quez. Ms. Vasquez. Ms. Vasquez!”

Marissa startled, looking up to find one disapproving Potions professor looking at her.

“There’s unfortunately some bad news, and you are to go to the infirmary. It seems that Dominique Weasley has been hospitalized for certain reasons.”

Marissa felt her blood go cold, and her hold on her wand tightened. “Why are you telling me?” Her voice was hoarse and weak.

The potion sparked twice, rather violently, and Marissa stopped stirring and took her wand out of the potion. The professor took a step back, looking distastefully at it.

“I was getting to that. You’ll accompany Mr. Potter, and this is your pass,” the professor finished, passing her a slip of parchment.

Marissa nodded mutely, taking the piece of parchment.

As the professor left, Al came back holding something resembling mistletoe berries. Catching sight of Marissa’s face, he immediately asked, if a little tiredly, “What now?”

Marissa noticed he seemed as wary as she was, though he definitely didn’t know as much as she did. She wondered in the back of her mind what in the universe could have caused the tired look in his eyes. Or perhaps she was just transparent with her feelings.

“I’m taking you to the infirmary. Dominique’s been hospitalized.”

The mistletoe berries slipped from his hands. 

* * *

The walk to the infirmary was quiet and deafening. Marissa trudged along behind Al, who seemed like he wanted to run, but stopped himself intermittently to let her catch up. She didn’t know how he walked so fast, considering he was at least a good ten centimeters shorter than her.

She supposed that Al wanted to see Dominique right away, while she simply didn’t want to face up to the facts.

It would be logical to wonder what exactly could have cause Dominique Weasley’s hospitalization, but Marissa didn’t have to. She had exactly every idea what could have caused it, and now all she needed confirmation.

Though, one question plagued her mind, refusing to be silenced:  _Was it my fault?_

They reached a pair of double doors, and she Al pushed one of them open. On the inside were rows of beds covered by curtains, and from them came moans of pain. A nurse dashed by the two of them and disappeared behind the curtains of a bed next to them.

It was much different from the hospital she’d been in when she was young, but it was no less disconcerting. The bright sterile walls dug up memories Marissa was not up to reliving today.

Al approached a nurse that was passing and asked quietly where Dominique was, and then lead Marissa there.

There was a nurse already there, supposedly the one in charge of taking care of Dominique.

Marissa couldn’t bring herself to look at her, afraid of what she would find there. She knew that she couldn’t be dead, according to the Potions professor, but she couldn’t handle it right yet. She could, however, find an IV drip hooked up to her, and a floating screen of some sort detailing Dominique’s heart rate and condition. A heart monitor, but not technologically savvy. But it definitely did more than a heart monitor.

“Nur—Mr... Sorry, Mr. Zabini,” Al began, sitting on a stool next to her bed and taking Dominique’s hand in his, “how is she?”

“She’s doing well,” he said kindly, “the worst of it has passed last night.”

“I see,” he murmured, and Marissa caught something like tears gather at the corners of his eyes. “What happened?”

“She overdosed on narcotics,” he said. “We gave her a potion to reverse the effects.”

“Naloxone?” Marissa asked, curious. She vaguely remembered it from her health class, though she didn’t know much after that.

“Something like that,” Al answered for the nurse, not looking at her.

“It was something of both acute and chronic effect,” Nurse Zabini said. “She’s been taking narcotics for a while, but she congested too much of it in one sitting, catalyzing the effects.”

He let the information sink in, and then said, “I’ll leave you two alone now.”

Al murmured something, too quiet to be heard.

“What?” Marissa asked suddenly.

“I should have never left her alone,” Al said, louder.

“You said she left you,” Marissa reminded him.

“I don’t know, I just, I feel like I should’ve known something like this would happen,” he said tiredly. “All of this feels so surreal. What’s next? Anything else to throw at me?”

She stayed quiet, knowing it was not a question for her. She relished the silence, because at least it wasn’t being filled up by words of bad news being delivered by the nurse. She wasn’t sure that Al could handle that, despite how well he seemed to reign in his emotions as of current. But for who? Surely not her?

It was strange to think that she’d been in this exact position before, and it was uncanny how these things can happen twice in someone’s life, even when once was still one too many times.

Marissa still couldn’t make herself look at Dominique’s face, but when she gathered up the courage to do so, finally ready, she couldn’t look away. It was just—Dominique’s face just looked so helpless and sickly, and it seemed as if she was perpetually stuck in a nightmare.

It was like looking at a train crash, car crash or, or  _whatever—_ you could see the oncoming disaster but every one of your cells and nerves refused to let you move, you  _had_  to watch it or else. Had to watch the pain, hear the piercing noise of the ambulance, people screaming for help,  _anybody help they’re DYING_ —

Marissa struggled to take in air, though her heart seemed to beat a mile a minute regardless. It felt like she was drowning, but being much too alive at the same time.

Time seemed to slow down by the minute, and her vision narrowed only to include Dominique and her pale form; nothing else mattered.

Not the fact that she was clenching her fists like it was the only thing she could find a solid grip on, not that Al seemed to be calling her name louder and louder by the minute, not that her hands were becoming pale—nothing.

In sleep, Dominique looked much too similar like Chie, poor Chie who had once donned the same papery skin Dominique did right now.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped, eyes moving frantically to find the owner.

Her eyes met Al’s worried ones, but then his gaze felt too insistent so she looked away.

“Do you want water?” Al asked softly. How dumb was it that it was Al’s friend was the one hospitalized, but she was the one panicking. She didn’t deserve to panic over Dominique, especially since she barely knew her. And now he had to take care of her like she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself.

She clenched her hand harder, feeling her nails dig deeper into her skin. It would for sure leave marks, maybe scars. Break the barrier of skin even.

“I’ll stay on the other side then,” Al said, pulling away, and Marissa yelled, “No!”

Now Al jumped, scared and terrified, looking like his nerves had frayed further than they already were.

A trickle of guilt ran through her veins, but it was barely processed in her mind.

“No…” Marissa floundered around for words. “I mean… can you sit with me?”

Understanding her better now, he pulled his chair next to her. Hesitantly he leaned his head on her shoulder, and she immediately placed her head on top of his, craving comfort.

Marissa shifted in her seat, putting her legs up to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them.

Now, she guessed, was to play the waiting game. 

* * *

Marissa wasn’t sure how long she fell asleep for, but it was certainly long enough that the sunlight outside had dimmed considerably.

Where was she?

She blinked her eyes blearily, sluggishly taking in her surroundings. Oh, right. The infirmary. But why were her surroundings horizontal?

She got up gingerly, wincing at the pain in her neck and back, the result of sleeping in an awkward position.

Marissa turned to her side, and saw that Al was yawning (though she wasn’t sure if he’d fell asleep too, probably just tired then), and it hit her belatedly that she might have fallen asleep in his lap.

Oh fucking hell. How in the ever loving  _fuck_ did that happen?

“Did I…” Marissa trailed off, gesturing vaguely to his lap.

“Uh huh,” he replied, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space,” she apologized pathetically. She probably would have better sorry’s to give when she didn’t feel so damn drained.

“You’re fine,” he forgave easily.

She nodded, and then looked at Dominique. Absentmindedly, she noted that Dominique’s finger twitched—wait.

Dominique moved.

Holy shit she—

“Dom?” Marissa heard Al say hopefully.

Dominique was indeed beginning to stir, although in the form of choking on the tubes helping her breathe. Her eyes shot open, filled with fear.

“Dom. Dom!” Al signaled at Marissa frantically, somewhere off to the side, beyond the confines of the curtains surrounding the three of them.

After being confused for a second, she got what Al was getting at. “Nurse Zabini!”

It was not long after Marissa’s call that he arrived, and he quickly set to work, beginning to extubate her.

Finally after a few tense moments, Dominique settled in her bed, her breathing slowing down into a calmer pace.

Nurse Zabini gently pushed her to sit up, and pushing a vial of filled with a liquid of some sort up to her mouth. “Drink this.”

Dominique did so, the liquid seeming to revitalize her quickly enough. Well, it certainly eliminated waiting for her to regain her basic senses.

“Hello, Miss Weasley,” Nurse Zabini said pleasantly enough.

She waited a second before answering. When she did, her voice sounded hoarse from disuse. “My head’s pounding.”

“It happens,” Nurse Zabini replied blithely, moving the ‘heart monitor’ closer to him (with some complicated swishing of the wand), and analyzed what was in front of him. With a thoughtful look on his face, he left, throwing a disparaging look at Dominique as if to say she shouldn’t dare leave the bed.

Dominique smiled sarcastically, somehow finding the energy to do so. It dropped the moment Nurse Zabini turned. She observed her surroundings warily, and made eye contact with Marissa, at which she quickly darted away from. Marissa supposed it was because she saw her at the party yesterday, the place where she likely overdosed.

Dominique’s gaze settled on Al. “Hey stranger,” she said, voice weak and shaky once again.

Al said nothing, analyzing her pale form. It was a fair assessment, Marissa thought listlessly; she looked miserable, and her blonde hair was tangled and stringy, nothing like the mass of wavy curls it was at the party.

The silence consumed all three of them, the words swallowed by it before they could be said. The elephant that had taken place in the room was suffocating them, that was, until, Dominique decided that it had choked them for long enough, and said, as confidently as she could attempt, “I need help.”

And for Al, it seemed, these three words were the ones that tipped him over the edge. He sniffled, and buried his face in his hands. Dominique’s expression morphed into one of sadness, and looked like she desperately wanted to hug Al.

It was strange to think that before Marissa was here, there were already stories of peoples’ lives taking place. For some odd reason, it had never occurred to her that Hogwarts may have been buzzing with life before she had come here, and that made it ten times harder for her to comfort Al; she didn’t know the story. It certainly seemed like there something going on that had spanned the previous years before her. She had a rough idea of what was going on, but assumptions weren’t the best in any situation. Marissa still had a feeling she could empathize with Al greatly.

“Hey, hey,” Dominique said, laughing nervously, “this is supposed to be a good thing.”

Al nodded, wiping his face of any tears. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

“Saint Mungo’s, I think,” Dominique said. “As far as I know, it’s the only rehab center in all of Wizarding Britain.”

Marissa frowned. “The only rehab center? How come?”

Dominique shrugged. “I guess we don’t get a lot of drug addicts admitted in.” She paused, thinking. “Especially with muggle drugs.”

“That’s not—” Marissa was cut off by Nurse Zabini entering with parchment, a quill, and an ink pot.

Really? The  _only_? Why would it be the only rehab center? Shouldn’t there be more to accommodate people who farther away? Or maybe smaller establishments for people who don’t want to be around too many people during recovery?

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted by Nurse Zabini asking questions rapid fire, not giving Dominique a chance to answer any of them. Most of them seemed standard, such as where Dominique got her narcotics from, how much she took, approximately, when she took it, and where she took it. Though as he went on, the questions became more subjective, focusing on why Dominique took drugs, why she didn’t stop herself, etcetera.

Marissa was flummoxed and angry; Nurse Zabini was asking Dominique questions that were very much veering off from professional into personal. He was acting like Dominique purposefully took drugs because she wanted to, not because she would go through severe withdrawal if she didn’t. Sure, in beginning it might have been due to Dominique’s own volition, but at some point she can’t stop, couldn’t stop, hence, that was why it was called a drug addiction. It wasn’t exactly something anyone could control, as far as Marissa’s general knowledge goes.

“Hey!” Marissa interjected sharply. “Aren’t you supposed to be _helping_ not hurting? Why are you blaming her?”

Nurse Zabini seemed just as confused as she was, staring at her like she was out of her mind.

Marissa scowled at the notion; what she was wondering was _perfectly_ valid. After all, her previous experiences were _nothing_ like this.

“Well,” Nurse Zabini said, flustered, rather unlike him, “this is just protocol.”

Marissa became more confused at that. _What?_ This was just rich; protocol? Honestly, what the fuck was the Wizarding World _doing_?

Taking her silence as encouragement, Nurse Zabini continued his line of fire. Dominique answered hesitantly, and most of them, if not all, vaguely.

The time passed slowly, the nurses finally allowing them to leave. Dominique was to stay in the infirmary overnight. She left with Al, walking down the dimly lit corridors. The lanterns, bright as they were, didn’t do much to improve their vision.

As they made their way to their respective common room, Al asked, “Are you okay?”

Marissa resisted the want to snort. “I think the question should be, are _you_ okay?”

“Honestly? No,” he answered. “I’m really fucking tired, and all I want to do is go to bed.”

“Same here.” Marissa sighed heavily. “God, today’s been a day.”

“You can say that again.” 

Al stopped. "I turn here. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" 

Marissa hesitated, opening her mouth. 

Mulling over what happened yesterday, she felt compelled to tell Al that she’d been with Dominique, but considering how close he seemed with her, it could destroy what fledgling friendship that they had formed last night. If she didn’t tell him, he was more likely to be angry over the fact that she waited so long to tell, but if she told him now, he might end it right there. There was indeed nothing to lose, and both options were not appealing but the latter was definitely better in terms of integrity and honesty.

Marissa pinched the bridge of her nose, willing her slowly growing headache to go away. Finally, she said, “I saw her.”

Al took a moment to process her words. “I'm sorry. What?”

“I saw her. At the party, I mean. I was at bar, or whatever the fuck you call it, and she came by to get drinks. I noticed she was jittery, and I asked her to drink some water. She was holding something in her hands, but she went off somewhere before I could push harder than I already had,” Marissa finished, analyzing Al’s face for any reaction.

He dug the heels of hands into his eyes. Then he said, levelly, “Okay. Okay. You did what you could. You don’t know her as well as I do.”

Marissa wasn’t expecting that. He was much more forgiving than she expected and his words relieved her. They were reassuring because they were true; she did in fact do what she could for a person she wasn’t equipped to take care of correctly. Dominique wasn’t her responsibility. But it felt like it.

She felt like an idiot. She should have never fell for the safety blanket that settled on her shoulders when she came here; she should’ve been on her guard, something to at least soften the blow. Though she wasn’t close to Dominique, the situation hit closer to home than she expected it to.

Disheartening and terrifying as it was, she was not unfamiliar with the people close to her being hospitalized for one reason or another. Chie had been to a psychiatrist for drug abuse a few years back. Though she relapsed occasionally, she was doing much better in recent years.

Marissa should’ve known that. She felt more so like an idiot now; she’d had a panic attack over _nothing._ Chie was well and fine. Worse yet, Al didn’t panic, and he was Dominique’s best friend (for what it was worth) for fuck’s sake!

Embarrassment stuck to her like a second skin, it wouldn’t ever let go of her now, not in the foreseeable future either

Al seemed to catch on to her train of thought, and smiled as genuinely as he could, weak as it was. "It's okay. Really. Thanks for being there for me today. Get some rest, yeah?"

Marissa nodded, tears catching in her eyes. It was truly astonishing to her just how fucking kind Al was, despite all that happened. When it was her, she wasn't nearly as forgiving. 

"Yeah... yeah, okay. Thank you," she told him, and she held her arms out. 

Al hesitated here, but slowly came forward wrapping his arms around her. "Good night." 

"Good night."  


	7. { a giddy bubble in her chest }

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop! i finally write chapter seven! i avoided writing it because i had no idea what would come next. but since i have everything planned out, i'm not so scared anymore!!
> 
> also, does anybody recognize the vine i referenced??? 
> 
> also: madoka magica doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Shaft. I also don't own the k-pop groups i mentioned in here.

Marissa shifted in the Slytherin common room’s couch, spreading her legs out to take the extra space that was next to her. She leaned into the couch.

She stared and stared at the Arithmancy problem until phosphenes appeared in her vision. She wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t figure the problem out, but in previous years, it had been a while since she had not been able to figure out the solution. So. She was a little unused to it. Perhaps it from the fact she stayed up until _three in the fucking morning._ It was a surefire cause because it was said that the brain processes the most when it was sleeping. Less sleep equaled an addled brain.

Not to mention, how would one even begin to start the problem? Her teacher had not bothered to go over the basics, nor do an example, and it annoyed her to no end. Of course, it was understandable; everyone else in that class had been taking Arithmancy for a few years, so they already had the basics down. It wasn’t up to the teacher to baby and teach her everything. Though it would certainly be nice.

Marissa rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Maybe it would come to her when she had a fresh vision.

A few moments later, she opened her eyes as an idea started formulating in her head. Well, it looked very similar to what she had learned in calculus, so maybe it could work in this case? Her textbook had even struck her as having the same properties of differential calculus. Maybe taking derivatives would help her determine the future? Who knew? It was worth a try.

She straightened herself. As she began to set off to work (with a  _quill_  of all things; it was very hard for her to maneuver, and get a steady flow of ink) Scorpius came by, saying, “Hey, can you stop sitting like an asshole and move your legs?”

Marissa glanced up from her Arithmancy induced reverie to see Scorpius’ smiling face. She moved her legs wordlessly, beginning to turn her attention back to her homework.

“What are you doing?” Scorpius asked, dropping himself down on the cushion next to her.

“Arithmancy,” Marissa told him off-handedly, finally putting some work down onto her parchment.

Scorpius inhaled sharply, likely in sympathy. “And how’s that going for you?”

Marissa shrugged.

“You know, you could always ask for help,” Scorpius told her, sounding as if Marissa was a child.

And for her part, she acted a little bit like one. She stared blankly at him, as if to say even doing so was unfathomable to her.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Come on, show me what you’re doing.” When she didn’t give him her stack of parchment and textbook, he gently pried it from her hands, and looked at the problem she was working on.

Scorpius hummed. “Vector was out of her mind to give  _this_  problem as the first one; I spent half an hour on it before I could even figure out what it meant.” He leaned closer to her. “Well, this is what you do…”

Marissa paid attention intently, glad that he at least didn’t completely discredit her ideas.

“And then… I’m pretty sure that’s how you get the answer,” Scorpius concluded. He paused, and then said, “Don’t quote me on that, I’m not sure of anything I just did.”

“Well,” Marissa sighed, grabbing back her textbooks and parchment, “it’s something. Thanks for the help. Is there any reason you're here?"

Scorpius brightened. "Oh, yeah. There was a friendly quidditch game, and I was wondering if you wanted to come? It starts..." He looked away, momentarily distracted. He murmured, "Tempus," and 11:38 a.m. showed up in front of him in medium font. "Right now, actually." 

Marissa appreciated the thought, she really did, but what was quidditch? The word only made her recall vague images in her mind.

“Okay…” Marissa answered, nodding slowly. “I’ll come.”

“Great! I think Halley is already there,” Scorpius answered, a cheerful note to his voice. “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, just let me put my things away.” She picked herself up from the couch, and placed her work and textbooks back into her bag, slinging it over one shoulder.

“So, do you play?” she asked as they leisurely made their way to wherever the game was. Possibly outside, right?

“Oh, no,” he laughed, hands waving to emphasize his words. “I’m scared of heights, and not to mention, the bludgers? The bludgers are fucking terrifying. It’s also hard as fuck to throw a quaffle and ride a broom at the same time. But my dad instilled a shallow kind of appreciation for it, so.”

Bludger? _To bludgeon._ What kind of game was this exactly, where people were scared enough to be hit by a foreign object? And apparently it took place in the air, hundreds of meters in the sky. Was that what those bloody brooms were for? It was still hard for her to believe they had any sustenance at all, considering its lithe build.

“I see,” Marissa replied. “So are there like house-wide teams or…?”

“There are! Seven players for each team, and try-outs are at the beginning of the school year, to fill spots or replace people.”

“Replace? You mean they’ll kick off people if someone’s better?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius replied with some amusement, “it’s pretty cutthroat. The Gryffs are the guiltiest of doing this. Though it doesn’t make sense to me, since at least half of the members are related to each other, and you’d think they’d be the most nepotistic… but no. ”

Related to each other? What family would have so many people that they’d all be related to each other?

Abruptly, she was reminded of when George told her he had about a dozen nieces and nephews. It was completely possible it was them.

She dismissed the thought, attention back to the conversation at hand. “So, there are national teams too?”

Scorpius hummed his confirmation. “There’s usually a team for each wizarding district or town or whatever you want to call it. Like the Appleby Arrows belong to Appleby, and the Montrose Magpies belong to Montrose and so and so. There’s world cups too, and the process to that is a whole lot of confusing—that is, confusing for me to explain. There’s plenty of books on it in the library, if you’re interested.”

Marissa nodded, and noticed that they were outside, nearing the large expanse of a pitch, where two tall poles with hoops on top resided on the opposite sides. There were stands for each house, two on each side where the poles weren’t. People were already whizzing around in the air, catching and tossing an object (the quaffle?) around.

This would be the first time she had ever set foot on a playing field; she wasn’t one for participating in sports. It just wasn’t for her. She’d found out when a football had hit her smack dab in the face when she was in the sixth form, and vowed to never play again. That football hurt her face like a bitch. (Leiko and Chie had laughed their asses, the conniving little shits.)

Scorpius led her to the Slytherin stands (helpfully indicated by the amount of green and silver it was shrouded in), to where Halley was seated, and Al as well. Other people were scattered around, watching the game with a minimal amount of attention. Most just seemed to be taking advantage of the sunny but cool weather, chatting idly with their classmates.

Scorpius smiled, and said to Halley as he seated himself on her only other side, “You got Al outside.”

“With a herculean amount of effort, but yes,” Halley replied, crossing her legs, and placing her hands on top of her knees.

“I’m right here you fuckers,” Al replied snappishly, from his place next to Halley. “Fuck off.”

Halley snorted. “Ever the cheerful one, aren’t you! No worries, who said you had to _watch_ the game?”

Al chose not to dignify her barb with a response, and instead took notice to Marissa, who chose to sit a respectable distance away from him. “Hello, how are you this abso _lutely_ lovely morning?”

Marissa raised an eyebrow, mouth quirked up in amusement. “Fine, I suppose. A little tired, since I was spending it all doing homework.”

Al nodded, smiling. “I see. I was spending it sleeping in, until lovely _lovely_ Halley here decided to barge up my dorm to wake me up.” His smile took a sarcastic twist. “I regret that Hufflepuff decided to be so _damn_ trusting of people and forgo a repulsion system. People like Halley take advantage of it each and every time.”

Marissa smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.

She needn’t have worried, as Halley took this as her chance to respond. “I heard that, you bitch.”

“Oh, sweetie, you were _meant_ to.”

After the conversation ended, Marissa took to watching the game. It was a bit hard to follow, considering that there seemed to be no rhyme or rhythm in the way the participants played; Marissa supposed that was to happen in a friendly game that wasn’t being taken seriously.

It would also be easier for her to follow if she knew what the game was, but no such luck.

“Have any idea what’s going on?” she ventured to Al, turning her head to look at him.

“Not a fucking clue,” he replied, deadpan, eyes darting around to follow the players. “And I know how to play the game.”

Marissa shrugged, and began to inspect her nails. They were getting quite long, and were prone to snagging on objects, she was disappointed to admit. She needed a nail file, or a clipper. Then she remembered that clippers peeled layers off of her nail bed, and decided, no, she definitely needed only a nail file.

As was to happen when one was entirely bored with nothing else to do, her mind predictably decided to listen in on the conversation Halley and Scorpius had taken to, even though they were the ones that decided to come to the game.

“I wonder how she is,” Halley mused to Scorpius, a bit concernedly. “She just left so suddenly. People are starting to say that she’s faking insanity to get out of doing NEWT year. Which is fucking dumb, because NEWT year is the most important. I personally don’t think she’d do that, she has a damn good work ethic. Why would she ruin it?”

“Who knows,” Scorpius replied exasperatedly. “People are dumb as fuck. I’ve heard people say that she’s lost the plot, went crazy, or whatever the fuck. Al was there, so I think he’d know. And maybe Marissa, I think. They both went together to the infirmary, do you remember? During a Potions class, like, two, three, weeks ago.”

By this point, Marissa was blatantly watching them converse about Dom. It was about her too, so it wasn’t as if she was doing anything wrong. She found it interesting that until today, she hadn’t heard a word about Dominique, and that was surprising to her, as most schools had an overly healthy rumor mill. It could also be attributed to the fact that she just didn’t care for the bullshit it spewed out.

“Hey, Al.” Halley twisted around in her seat to face Albus, who was slouched. He looked rather comfy in his loose jumper and jeans, basking in the sun, almost like a cat would. “Do you have any idea what the hell happened to Dom?”

Al made no sign that he heard her question.

“Al?” she repeated.

“I heard you,” Al said. “I’m thinking. I’d tell you, but…”

“Oh. Cousin confidentiality?” Halley asked with a smirk.

Al rolled his eyes, and sent her an amused smile. “Maybe. She hasn’t lost the plot, she isn’t faking insanity, she isn’t pregnant, and she hasn’t went crazy.”

Halley nodded and turned back in her seat. “Isn’t it funny, how people use her for entertainment, and then throw her away like a used toy.”

“People have the attention span of a person with ADHD, these days,” Scorpius muttered.

“Don’t say that shit, its offensive,” Al immediately rebutted. “You have a vocabulary, use it.”

Marissa applauded him secretly for that. It was indeed offensive to reduce a disorder with real struggles to mere character traits.

Scorpius flushed, though it was just slight dusting of pink on the tops of his cheekbones. “I’m sorry. I’ll remember that next time.”

Al smiled at him pleasantly, and turned back to the game. “Oh, it’s already over.”

Marissa absentmindedly looked over to find the players were descending on their brooms, the objects they were playing the game with neatly slotting themselves into a container, as if it was specially made for them.

“Son of a bitch’s probably happy the game’s over,” Halley muttered to herself, despite which, Al still replied, “To go back to sleep? Yes, definitely! I’ve had my share of staying outside today, thank you very much!”

Regardless of his previous words, he continued to walk with them at a leisurely pace, even stopping for Marissa to catch up, and walk with her.

“So,” Al was saying, nodding back towards the pitch, “how was the game?” He seemed more comfortable with her, she was glad to note. Would spending a night in the infirmary to worry over a sort of mutual friend be considered a milestone? It certainly was the case with her and Leiko.

“Oh, um,” Marissa tried to stall. Truth be told, she didn’t have a rat’s ass about what went on there. Though people playing catch on brooms should technically interest her, it didn’t, due to the fact that she didn’t know what the hell was going on. And not knowing what was happening tended to make her lose interest.

“No idea?” Al offered, tilting his head.

She nodded sheepishly. “Do you play?”

“Not at all,” he replied, “but I know how because most of my family are, like, quidditch nuts. Bludgers scare the hell out of me.”

“Right… what’s up with those, by the way?”

“They’re meant to distract people, which I don’t know _why_ since if they were charmed to distract you, they’d do their job just as well.”

“I’m sure that someone decided getting a concussion by bludger would definitely distract you. They were right.”

Al laughed. “Quidditch… quidditch sure is something else. I think someone was drunk off their ass when they made this mess of a game. I still don’t understand why my family’s so obsessed with it. Though riding a broom is a lot more fun, I assure you.”

He stopped at the edge of the stands, leaning on a railing. Marissa opted to lean on the opposite rail.

“Is it?” she questioned skeptically. She saw how high people went. Flying at such high altitudes couldn’t be that much fun as it’d be so easy to lose your breath up there. The possibility of death wasn’t so appealing either.

“You should try to ride one.”

“You should try to teach me.”

Al paused, blinking.

Marissa repressed the urge to tug on her hair. Was she being too forward with him?

“Maybe,” he said, after much thought. “Not now though…” Al cut himself off as his attention shifted to something behind him, and Marissa followed his line of sight, curious.

“Lily?” Al questioned, confusion apparent in his voice.

“Hullo Al,” the girl called Lily said. “You’re outside today?”

“It’s not that surprising,” Al said rather indignantly.

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes, leaning on the rail, facing to talk to him. “You spent most of last year being late to classes because you slept in.”

“I… hadn’t realized,” he told her lamely. Then, he continued, “Though it’s funny you’re here. You hate quidditch.”

“My friends convinced me, just this one time.” Lily shrugged, and her attention turned to Marissa, regarding her shrewdly.

“Marissa… correct?” Lily tilted her head, a glint of something Marissa couldn’t quite put her tongue on. It did nothing to ease the guards she put up.

Marissa observed her. Everything about her was sharp, her cheekbones, her nose, her eyes, the cut of her hair.

“Yes,” she replied. “And what about it?”

“Lily…” Al was saying, a warning in his voice. Did he know something she didn’t?

“Right,” Lily said. She turned to Al, pasting on a saccharine smile. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

Al stayed rooted where he was, a frown evident on his mouth.

“I won’t maim her, I promise.” Lily waved him off dismissively, an amused grin on her face.

Al scrunched up his nose, and turned away muttering, “I swear to god…” He paused. And then he said to Marissa, “I’ll be up in the stands if you need me.”

Marissa nodded nervously. Was she in trouble? She was not about to get into a cat fight literally only three weeks into school (and subsequently land herself in detention), nor was she about to break her three year record. Of course, the last time she did fight someone was back when a girl broke up with Leiko for being bisexual. The surprised look on that girl’s face still put an inordinate amount of satisfaction in her, and she had to fight back the smile it put on her face presently.

Lily watched until him until he sufficiently placed himself far away from them.

“You were there weren’t you? At the party.” She fixed Marissa with an analytic stare.

“I was,” Marissa replied shortly, crossing her arms.

“And you saw Dom? What happened? How was she doing?” Lily pressed, leaning forward.

“I saw her almost as soon as entered at the party. By then, the party was already full swing, and I was pretty late. Dominique when she came to see me… she seemed almost euphoric? She was jumpy, and she was hiding something from me, but I… didn’t really want to push.” Marissa shrugged, looking anywhere but Lily’s face. Her stare was uncomfortable and demanding.

“And why didn’t you?” Lily asked. Though it was innocent enough, it had an underlying accusatory tone towards Marissa that she didn’t appreciate.

“Not really my place isn’t it? I gave her water, but then I guess she got tired of talking to me, so she left.”

“You didn’t follow her.”

“No.” Marissa chose not to explain, though Lily was clearly expecting her to.

Lily sighed, frustrated, as if Marissa was a child that just wasn’t able to understand a simple task. She didn’t appreciate that, since she was at least a few years older than her, from the looks of it.

“Fine, fine, whatever. You’re so clearly not interested in cooperating. I’m fucking upset that my cousin was hospitalized. And where were you when that happened? She overdosed right after you left that goddamn party.”

Marissa rustled, irked. “I did what I could. She’s not my friend, nor is she _my_ cousin. She’s not my responsibility.”

Lily didn’t look like she believed her.

Finally, she huffed, and turned on her heel, walking away with a broom in one of her hands.

 _For fuck’s sake_.

Marissa stomped (yes, _stomped_ ) her way back to Al, a scowl embedded deeply on her face. She sat down beside him, and told him, “Your sister’s a little bitch.”

She didn’t mean it, but in the current moment, the indignant feeling running through her blood made her feel like it.

It was absolutely not her fault for the choices Dominique chose to make. It was just unlucky happenstance, to be where she was, and she had dealt with the situation she was handed to the best of her ability. Unlucky enough to be confronted with Lily. Seven billion people on this goddamned bitch of an earth, and she had the unlucky fortune to meet her.

Al laughed, and repeated, “On this goddamned bitch of an earth… That’s a new one.”

Marissa flushed. She’d said that last part aloud, didn’t she? Well, fuck.

He continued, “Her cousin was hospitalized. I understand the way she was feeling, but I don’t think it justified the way she treated you. She’s pretty much cold to whoever isn’t her family. Sometimes she’s so Slytherin, it smacks you in the face. Don’t take it too personally, it’s not about you.”

That didn’t make disappear the scowl on her face. “She’s in my house? Oh, great.”

Al smiled, amused. “She’s all bark, and no bite. I think.”

That reminded her of a video she once saw, only about six seconds, of where a small dog was barking loudly, and someone was huddled on a chair, screaming, “Get your dog!” to which owner of the dog only replied, “It don’t bite.” The other person only kept screaming, “Yes it do!”

That was what this felt like, almost to the dot.  Even if Lily was all bark and no bite, it was indeed a very frightening bark she had.

“Anyways,” Al sighed, “lunch is almost over. You might want to get some?”

“Fair, but what about you?” Marissa questioned.

“The kitchens are right next to my common room, I’ll be fine.” Al shrugged indifferently, his attention already leaving the conversation.

Marissa dismissed it similarly, and walked to the Great Hall, where a good chunk of students were still there, eating as if they had all the time in the world. She snorted when she thought about their reactions to when the found out they’d left all of their homework until the last minute (this was a commonality back at her old school).

She placed herself in the first place she deemed was empty, and grabbed the ingredients for a crisp sandwich. While it was not the healthiest option, her parents were not there to reprimand her for her choices. Not to mention, any notion of self-care usually was thrown out of the window when it came to school. (A habit which she loathed, but habits were far easier to make than they are to break.)

Right around the moment she about to take a bite of the sandwich she’d made so lovingly (it occurred to her just how hungry she was), an owl came by, dropping the letter it was holding in its claws, perched on the edge of the table.

Surprised, she dropped her sandwich on her plate, muttering, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

The notion that owls delivered people’s mails still confused her to no end. Wouldn’t it be easier to upgrade to a computer? Or invent something that would make communication easier? Tradition wasn’t all that much worth it when it was at the cost of advancing society (barring a few of course). How did people even train their owls to deliver their mail for them, like a wizarding email address? Did they take the time do so? Use magic? Or were they already trained beforehand by an expert owl keeper?

Regardless, she felt bad for the bad weather conditions these poor owls had to fly in.

The owl, getting impatient, began to peck her fingers.

Marissa moved her hand. “Ouch!” She grabbed a few crisps, and held them out to the owl, who took a few gleefully. Satisfied, the owl flew away.

“Jesus,” she muttered. Shaking her head, she took the letter the owl had dropped off in her hands, turning it to see the address. If there was one.

But thankfully there was, and it was one she recognized. Leiko’s.

Almost immediately, she felt a surge of guilt. It had been almost a month since she had made her way to Hogwarts, but she didn’t even think of communicating with them once, despite her promise of going to hell and back to keep in touch with them. Some friend she was. She didn’t even try to curb her laziness, and try to find a way to communicate with them.

Deciding to let bygones be bygones, and promising herself to do better, she opened the letter. She found Leiko’s hurried scrawl.

_Hey bitch,_

_First of all, fuck you to hell. It’s been a month. That’s the longest we’ve been apart. You need to write us. So we’re here (Chie wrote a letter too!) to rectify that. I expect a reply within two weeks. That’s more than enough time for you to write a letter, and for the owl to deliver it. An owl. Yes. The one that sent this letter tried to attack me. In other unrelated news, did you know that Chie’s papa has a pet Scops owl? She’s super cute (with murder in her eyes), and her name is Robin._

Marissa snorted. In writing, Leiko was just as bold as she was in real life, a mass of endless volatile irritation. It also wasn’t too out of character to call Marissa out on her bullshit (her inability to get up off of her ass).

She also found it immensely relieving that Leiko thought it was just as ridiculous to communicate by owl.  

_How is Hogwarts? How are your classes? Are they hard? (I’m not jealous that you have to take classes all over again, school was already a bitch as it is.) What classes are you taking? Do you like your peers? Have you made any friends? What about Cho Chang? I heard from Chie that she’s a slave driver, that is, if you take Ancient Runes._

She luckily wasn’t.

_It’s been alright here. I’ve been trying to learn code (you know, for that Computer Science major I’m supposedly going to apply for come next spring), but damn, is it hard. I decided to make a go of Python first (apparently the easiest), and well, uh, your girl is abso- fucking- lutely struggling. I’m not going to survive college Marissa. Good thing Papa is good at this, he’s been a great help. Except he likes to do these kinds of things for hours at a time, while my goal is to only do a max of an hour a day. I could barely get time out of my schedule (yes, Papa made a damn schedule for me to learn how to code) to write this letter._

_In what other free time I do have, I’ve found that I really like K-pop, and sometimes, J-pop. Yes, I’ve joined the Army, Marissa. Consider me joined. Are you happy? (Some other notable mentions include: BlackPink, Monsta X, EXO, and SHINee.) The songs are super fucking catchy (especially, Fire and Not Today), and recently I’ve been trying to teach myself how to dance to the songs. I also get some exercise while I’m at, so it’s a plus! And I know a few cool moves too! I also got back into some of the old animes we used to watch together when we were, like, twelve, because, you know, nostalgia. I totally forgot how fucking good the soundtrack for Madoka Magica was, and despite it being only twelve episodes, I still can’t wrap my head around how much care they actually put into the show._

_Anyways, for the meantime, I think that’s all I have to say. That, and my wrist is fucking hurting._

_Farewell, my good bitch._

_Or something like that._

By the time she got to the end of the letter, she couldn’t stop the giggles that spilled from her mouth, as if a giddy bubble just couldn’t wait any longer to escape her chest. She read the letter over a few more times, taking in every single detail, even the way Leiko looped her y’s and g’s, and she found herself reprimanding Leiko internally for the way she wrote like she was trying to permanently engrave the words she wrote into a stone tablet.

The thing was, even though she was happy enough to be here at Hogwarts and learn about the ways of magic and about Wizarding world culture, the sudden change in surroundings from her old home and neighborhood had made her homesick. She had new friends here, but she wasn’t even an eighth as close to them as she was to Leiko and Chie, so they couldn’t even compare.

Learning about the utter mundaneness of Leiko’s life had made her homesick feeling go away, even if only a little. She was happy to learn that Leiko was finally getting to K-pop (she had been fangirling about BTS for _years_ , even had a tiny bit of a crush on all of the members), and that she was finally trying to learn how to code, and that she was going through a bout of nostalgia. All of it was so damn interesting to her.

She fucking loved her friends, and was grateful for the fact she had them. It made coping with living at Hogwarts a little bit easier for her.

Smiling a wide grin (at the risk of looking like a maniac while doing so), she resolved to write an extremely long conjoined letter to them, and opened Chie’s letter to read.


End file.
